The Consequences of No Escape
by Sparkiebunny
Summary: Tony is caught in a seemingly hopeless predicament. Can he escape? Hurt!Tony.
1. He Could Not Escape

**AN: I hit a bit of writer's block with _Caught In the Middle: Part II_, and this idea struck me, so I thought I'd give it a** **shot. Hope you enjoy!**

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Tony had never been claustrophobic…until now.

As he fought valiantly against the darkness enclosing him, he couldn't escape the realization of this newfound fear.

He could not escape.

As he beat his fists and fiercely clawed at the wooden entrapment, he felt the sting of splitting fingernails and the warmth of red liquid dripping down his arms, saturating his hands. He allowed it to stain the wood, continuing his vengeful beating.

A small voice in the back of his consciousness said the words he would never admit.

He could not escape.

As he bludgeoned his feet mercilessly against the solid timber, he felt the cracking of a small bone. It sent a wave of pain through his leg and up to his brain. But he continued to kick, ignoring the twinge of each impact, unwilling to acknowledge the ever-present possibility that…

He could not escape.

Violent wheezing conquered his lungs. His chest refused to expand enough to let oxygen in. Every coveted breath burned painfully, making him all too aware of the fact that his oxygen supply was depleting with every intake of air.

Time was running out. Pretty damn fast.

He forced himself to lie still, knowing he would pass out with any further exertion. As he attempted to steady his breaths, he kept his unspoken fear at bay. Yet still the voice persisted.

He could not escape.

He tried to stretch out his aching, cramped limbs. The motion was useless, as there was no room to shift at all. The random twitches of his muscles bashed his kneecaps into the hard lid, but he was too concerned about his current quandary to care.

Thoughts sped around his fading mind. Plans were formulated and discarded in seconds. Memories from the events leading to his current state flowed in an out. But in the end, only one thought stuck. It was the statement that had been lingering around him since he awakened in his wooden tomb, what seemed like so long ago. Mere minutes felt like hours. Time was slipping away, draining from existence. His life was following close behind. He could feel it. And the only thing he could do was think that one thought. That one enduring statement.

He could not escape.

The hopelessness that gripped him transformed into a morbid acceptance. Two small tears slipped out of his eyes. As they made their way down his dirtied cheeks, he allowed himself a bitter chuckle.

He closed his eyes and softly whispered to himself, "I guess…I'm really not…getting out of this one."

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**AN: Sorry about the super short prologue! If I get enough feedback and sense enough interest, I'll continue this story, starting at the beginning, then picking up with the present. So please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!**


	2. Flesh Wounds

**AN1: Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I try to reply to all of them, but I can't reply to the anonymous reviews. So to all of my anonymous, THANK YOU!!! Hope you enjoy this installment everyone!**

**AN2: I would like to apologize for any inaccurate info regarding Judaism. I'm not of the Jewish religion and any information I use is off of Google. I hope no one is offended by the possible misinformation. I know it's a sign of weakness, but I'm sorry.**

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_Two Days Earlier..._

"Ahhhh-ouch!" Tony cried across the bullpen. He squeezed his finger tightly as a small trickle of blood gathered at the tip. Glaring at the file responsible, he grabbed a tissue, watching the red substance disappear into the soft white.

Ziva looked up exasperatedly from her desk. "What is it now?"

Tony stuck up the finger, now wrapped in the tissue. An exaggerated frown playfully lit up his features.

Dark eyes narrowed, Ziva examined the injury. With a small smirk, she declared, "It's just a flesh wound!"

A strangled gasp emitted from Tony's throat. "How dare you quote Monty Python at me! I am deeply offended. This-" he used his clean hand to gesture toward the bleeding finger. "-is a battle wound. I sacrificed my own well-being to complete this paperwork! Hours of tedious reading and _this_ is how I'm repaid?" His brow was furrowed in an indignant scowl.

"Ya gonna live, DiNozzo?" a voice said from behind Tony.

Quickly pulling his hand down and unwrapping the makeshift bandage, Tony said, "Yeah, Boss. I think so. We got a case?"

"Suzanne Ryker, Navy Lieutenant. Found dead outside her home, where she does her daily morning run. Call Ducky. Let's go!"

"On it, Boss," Tony replied. He swiftly rose from his desk, grabbing his cell and dialing the ME's number. He slung his pack over his shoulder and stepped into the elevator, next to his team.

**. . .**

The car pulled into the driveway of the Ryker's suburban home. It was your typical middle upper-class house, with the flowers lining windowsills, greedily soaking up the sunlight for their colorful blooms. It was a bright spring day, with cloudless, ocean blue skies.

Gibbs led the way, marching up to the door and knocking firmly on the varnished wood. A man, looking to be about thirty or so, answered. His hair was a dark brown with a few small streaks of gray. His eyes matched the deep chocolate of his hair, but reflected a seriousness and maturity far beyond his years. Whether the intensity emanating from those eyes stemmed from something good or bad, it was difficult to say.

"Jonathon Ryker?" Gibbs asked the man.

"Yes, I'm Jonathon. Is this regarding…" The man took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. Is this, uh, regarding my wife?" His voice cracked slightly.

"Yes, sir. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

"Of course. Come in."

Turning to the rest of the team, Gibbs ordered, "McGee, Ziva, you go to the scene. DiNozzo, you're with me."

"Yes, Boss," McGee and Ziva replied. They turned around and began walking toward the road. A few hundred yards away, Ducky and Palmer were examining the body.

Gibbs and Tony silently entered the house, walking into the living room. Seated on the large, pearly white sofa was a man with sandy hair and light brown eyes. He looked to be about the same age as Mr. Ryker, but his disheveled appearance aged him a bit. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery. The exhaustion on his face was apparent, though not nearly as predominant as the grief.

The man looked up as Gibbs and Tony walked in. Hastily standing, he turned to Jonathon said, "I'm sorry. You obviously have a lot to take care of. I'll go now. Call me if you need anything." He quickly made his way to the front door, exiting the house.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "And who was that?" he asked Jonathon.

"That was a close family friend, Kevin Willis. He lives down the block."

"I see," Gibbs said. He made a mental note to check up on him when they were done here. "So when did you last see your wife, Mr. Ryker?"

"She had just finished her breakfast and was on her way out to begin her run. She runs the same route every day. Never ceases to amaze me. 3 miles around the block, without fail. My wife is-was-very physically fit…She could outrun a racehorse," Jonathon said fondly. His face fell slightly as he continued. "I was leaving for work and as I drove past, I saw her on the ground. I got out and when I surmised her condition, I tried to resuscitate her…but it was too late. She was gone." His voice cracked at the last sentence.

"Is there anyone with a grudge against your wife? Anyone who would wish to see her harmed in any way?"

Jonathon smiled. "My wife is the kindest woman you could imagine. Always helped out those in need. Did extra work at the local community center…Everyone loved her…I can't imagine anyone wanting her dead."

"We'll find out who did this. You have our guarantee. First we need to determine the cause of death. As soon as our ME completes the autopsy-"

Gibbs was interrupted by the rapid shaking back and forth or Jonathon's head. "No, no, I'm sorry. My wife and I are Jewish. Our religion is clear. Any form of dissection of the body is desecration. It is inimical to our deepest principles and feeling. I'm sorry, but you must find another way. I refuse to allow any dishonor to my wife, even in death."

Gibbs took a deep breath, not allowing his frustration to be evidenced by his face. "Well, this'll make our investigation harder, but we'll do what we can."

"And the funeral is in two days, so please finish as soon as possible."

"Two days?! Mr. Ryker, we can't possibly release your wife's body in that amount of time. Our intention is to find out who did this and bring that person to justice. You can't expect us to do that in such a time frame."

Cold, dark eyes stared resolutely back at him. "You don't have a choice, Agent Gibbs. Two days. If you cannot find my wife's killer in that amount of time, I will simply have to live without justice. If that is the sacrifice I must make for my wife's soul to be at peace, so be it."

Gibbs sighed. "We'll do what we can, Mr. Ryker. Thank you for your time. We'll contact you if we need anything." He promptly stood up and walked out the door, Tony right behind him. Neither spared a glance back at Jonathon Ryker, who didn't even bother standing as they departed.

As the two walked out the door toward the scene, Tony said, "We should definitely check out that neighbor. Something seemed a little off about him."

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs replied. Frustration sharpened his words. Tony knew better than to continue the conversation.

McGee and Ziva were snapping pictures of the scene, while Ducky and Palmer examined the body.

The body was laying prone on the sidewalk, no open wounds or lacerations of any kind visible. Walking over to Ducky, Gibbs called out to the older man. "Ducky, no autopsy. And whatever you plan to do, you'd better do it fast. It seems we're on a bit of a time constraint…"


	3. Investigation

**AN: Thank you for the kind reviews! They are greatly appreciated and really keep my muse alive. Please keep them coming!!! Hope you enjoy this chapter. The action really picks up in the next, I promise! **

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After a few minutes of inspecting the scene, Gibbs began shouting orders. "McGee, DiNozzo. Get that neighbor's address from Ryker. I want him interviewed." The two took off toward Ryker's house. "Ziva, keep shooting the scene and look for anything we may have missed. Ducky, you ready to load up the body?"

Ducky sighed and stood up. "I believe so. It's difficult to ascertain the young woman's cause or time of death here. We'll conduct a thorough examination at Autopsy." He and Palmer pulled out the gurney and began lifting Suzanne Ryker's body onto it. Once settled, they loaded the gurney into the back of the van, shutting the door and climbing into the vehicle. "We'll see you soon, Jethro," Ducky called out as Palmer hit the gas and pulled out.

"I'll stick around and see if I can get anything out of these witnesses," Gibbs said. He made his way over to a small cluster of neighbors.

Walking through the Ryker's doorway, Tony and McGee began the short trek to the Kevin Willis's house.

**. . .**

McGee sneezed loudly, catching Tony's attention as they crossed the street. "Got the sniffles, McGee?"

"Every year, without fail. It's an annual bug…gets pretty nasty. This is just the beginning. Damn immune system…" McGee muttered in reply. Pulling a tissue out of his pocket, he blew his nose and wiped his watery eyes.

Eyeing McGee curiously, Tony said casually, "As long as you don't give it to me, Probie…"

"Thanks for the concern, Tony," McGee sarcastically replied.

Their conversation was cut short as they walked up to Kevin Willis's door. Tony knocked a few times before Willis answered. He looked as disheveled as before, although the appearance was altered slightly by colorful streaks of paint on his hands and t-shirt. Fresh tear tracks gave his face a distinctly clown-like, striped appearance.

"Nice to meet you again, Mr. Willis. This is my partner, Agent McGee. Doing some interior decorating?" Tony said casually.

He quickly brushed his hand across his eyes. Wiping his palms on the back of his jeans, Willis grinned half-heartedly, an embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. "Please, come in." He opened the door fully, stepping aside to let the agents in. They stepped into the home. It was much like the Rykers', with minor differences. A door to the left was slightly ajar, paint fumes wafting into the living room.

"Sorry for the mess," Willis said. He moved swiftly to the open door, closing it and sitting down across from Tony and McGee. "Painting is one of my hobbies. I'm in the middle of a complicated piece and wasn't expecting company. How can I help you?"

"We just need to ask you a few questions about Suzanne Ryker."

"Of course. Suzanne was a beautiful woman, inside and out. It's hard to believe she's…" He cleared his throat, blinking away tears.

Seeing Willis's distress, Tony quickly moved on. "How did you know the victim?"

"We've been neighbors for years. I knew Jon Ryker in college and we've been close ever since. I was around when he met Suzie…I was his best man at the wedding…When she joined the Navy, we were both supportive. Worried, but supportive. I always thought she'd go in a blaze of glory in some far-away land…not here…not like this…" His voice cracked as tears filled his sad eyes.

"Do you know of anyone with a grudge against Lieutenant Ryker?" Tony asked softy. He could see how much the man was suffering and wanted to keep things brief. Willis was obviously very close friends with Mr. and Mrs. Ryker. To have one friend dead and the other overwhelmed by grief over losing his wife…Tony felt for the guy.

Willis shook his head back and forth, sniffing and taking a deep breath. McGee chose that most inopportune moment to release his largest and loudest sneeze yet, quickly bringing his sleeve to his nose. When he pulled his arm away, the unpleasant discharge smeared. Willis hopped up and grabbed a tissue from the nearby table, giving McGee a sympathetic smile. Tony glared.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry. I seem to be coming down with a bit of a cold," McGee said nasally.

Tony rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Willis. We'll contact you if we need anything more," Tony said. He walked through the front door, McGee hot on his heels. They stepped onto the sidewalk and Tony stopped, turning to McGee. He had a look of slight disgust on his face as he said, "Really, McSniffles. Next time, bring a tissue."

"I had tissues! I just…ran out," McGee argued. Smiling and shaking his head, Tony led the way back to the crime scene.

"Enough of your Mc-Scuses! If you're gonna come to work sick, come prepared," he shouted behind him. McGee sighed and jogged to catch up with Tony.

**. . .**

"No prints on the clothes." Abby shouted behind her. Gibbs crossed the threshold and handed Abby her Caf!Pow.

"Damn. You mind double-checking, Abs?"

"Anything for you, my silver-haired fox," Abby replied with a smile. Grinning slightly himself, Gibbs exited the lab to rejoin the rest of the team and see if they'd had any more luck.

**. . .**

"Ryker's and Willis's background checks both came up clean," McGee said as Gibbs walked out of the elevator.

"Did Ducky find anything yet?"

"Not yet. He said the examination would take a few more hours, but so far it's inconclusive."

Gibbs swore under his breath. "I guess we'll just have to look into Ryker's records for anything useful."

McGee's eyes avoided Gibbs's nervously. "About that, Boss…"

"What, McGee?!" Gibbs shouted impatiently.

"I tried looking into Ryker's financial and occupational records, but…He must have them stored on an external drive somewhere. We couldn't find anything. If I can get my hands on the drive, I'm sure I could break any possible encryption, but until we get a hold of it…"

"We're screwed," Tony finished.

The entire team deflated a bit. Gibbs set aside his frustration and said sharply, "Well, we have the entire night to look into things, so we can deal with that roadblock tomorrow. Get to work."

Everyone sighed and sat at their desks. Unbeknownst to any of them, they were all wearily thinking the same thing. _It's gonna be a long night…_


	4. Waiting

**AN1: Unfortunately, I must begin my Author's Note with the breaking of Rule #6….I'm sorry. I promised action in this chapter, but my muse took the story in a different direction and with the way things worked out, you'll have to wait until next chapter. But next chapter is where things come to a head, so please stay with me! **

**AN2: Pretty please take 2 and a half seconds to review! ****Thanks for all the reviews thus far!!!**

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Gibbs peered through the glass into the small interrogation room. Jonathon Ryker was seated in the chair, elbows on the table, propping his head up. He tapped his fingers impatiently. Gibbs looked at his watch. _Give him a few more minutes to squirm…_

The team had stayed up all night looking for leads. Gibbs had allowed them each a 3-hour nap to keep them fresh, but other than that, they'd been diligently working on the case. As soon as Ducky finished his examination of the body, he had come up to the bullpen to explain his findings.

"_We discovered traces of some sort of chemical in Lieutenant Ryker's bloodstream. I couldn't determine the origin…Most likely, it was delivered orally, as I couldn't see any markings or streaks in her nasal cavities or airway to suggest inhalation. Though without a proper autopsy, it is impossible to tell. I sent a sample of the chemical to Abigail. At this point, I believe it is safe to assume that Mrs. Ryker was poisoned. Again, we have no physical evidence yet, but hopefully we will have a concrete answer by daybreak."_

Unfortunately, identifying the poison was a more difficult task than they had anticipated. Abby's mass spectrometer was still working hard to place a name on the sample.

"_Whatever this is, it's really stumping Major Mass Spec…It's going to be at least a few hours before she spits out an answer."_

"_We don't have that long, Abs! The funeral is tomorrow!"_

"_Sorry, Gibbs! You can't rush the Major. He's doing the best he can!"_

Gibbs had sighed frustratedly and stormed out of the lab. After some contemplation, he decided Jonathon Ryker needed to be called in for another interview. And here they were.

Looking at his watch once more, Gibbs opened the door and entered the room. It was noon. They had exactly 24 hours until the funeral, which gave them even less than that before they had to release Lieutenant Ryker's body. There was no time to waste.

"So Mr. Ryker…is there anything you want to tell me before we begin?" Gibbs asked casually, sitting in the chair across from Jonathon.

A mix of bewilderment and anger was openly conveyed on the man's face. "No, Agent Gibbs. I told you everything I had to yesterday."

"You know, it's odd…We tried doing some background on you. Couldn't find much. What we did find came up clean, but...there are a few holes. For example, we weren't able to access any of your financial files. Bank statements, credit card records…stuff like that. Why is it we can't find that information?"

Ryker looked positively shocked. "Those are private files, Agent Gibbs! You have no reason to access them!"

"Actually, we have a right to any info that we consider possible evidence in a murder investigation. Especially when doing background on a suspect," Gibbs replied calmly.

Ryker was getting agitated, just as Gibbs had intended. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about or what I'm doing here, but apparently it's necessary for me to call my lawyer, so I'm not saying a word to you." He crossed his arms defensively and leaned back in his chair.

Raising his eyebrows, Gibbs said, "Oh, so you deem it necessary to have a lawyer present? Why is that, Mr. Ryker? Are you afraid to reveal something of importance? Maybe something incriminating?"

A small smirk appeared on Jonathon Ryker's face, but Gibbs didn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes. "Really, Agent Gibbs…Subtlety is not one of your strengths. You can insinuate all you want, but I think it's only fair for me to let you know that I will not be saying another word to you without my lawyer present. I believe we're done here. I have an appointment at 12:30 that I cannot be late for, so I bid you good day. "

With that, Jonathon Ryker stood from his seat, walking toward the door and opening it. His steps paused as Gibbs said, "We'll be in contact, Mr. Ryker." Without looking back, he strode out of the room, leaving Gibbs behind to contemplate his next plan of action.

**. . .**

"I must say, you've turned an exceptional shade of green, McGee. I'm impressed. You should sell that color to Eddie Bauer. I'm sure they'd love to use it on one of their old-lady sweaters," Tony said with a goofy smirk.

Indeed, McGee's face was an interesting color. Coupled with the constant sneezing and nose-blowing, he was a sore sight to behold.

"Shut up, Tony," McGee replied sullenly. They had spent the whole night looking for something on Ryker and their search had come up dry. He was _not_ in the mood for teasing.

"You get any more info on Ryker?" Gibbs said, strolling into the bullpen. McGee looked up from his computer. He was about to answer when his eyes widened and he shot up from his desk, running toward the bathroom.

Tony shook his head and answered for McGee. "Not much, Boss. His parents are both deceased. No siblings. Not close with any of his coworkers. Couldn't find anything that'll help us."

"Indeed, the man seems like a bit of a floorflower," Ziva added.

At his desk, Tony rolled his eyes. "It's _wallflower,_ Ziva." Though the correction lacked its usual energy. The whole team was pretty worn out and the lack of evidence frustrated them all.

"McGee gonna be alright?" Gibbs asked casually.

"Yeah, he just caught a bit of a bug. He'll be fine."

"Fine enough to do his job?"

"I've got his six, Boss. But I think he can handle himself."

Nodding thoughtfully, Gibbs turned around and began walking toward the elevator. "Call me if you find anything more," he said over his shoulder, just as McGee re-entered the bullpen. "And McGee!" McGee's head shot towards Gibbs, eyes examining him questioningly. "Don't get the rest of the team sick."

Tony smirked and McGee shot him a death glare as Gibbs disappeared behind the elevator doors.

**. . .**

"Whatcha got, Abs?" Gibbs asked. He walked over to Abby, Caf-Pow in hand.

"Knew you'd be here soon," Abby said, smiling excitedly. "The exact chemical compound hasn't been found yet, but Major Mass Spec has it narrowed down to a few possible categories. We've ruled out hallucinogens and other 'pleasure drugs'. We've also ruled out anything that the victim could be using for medicinal purposes. Which means-"

"It's some kind of poison," Gibbs finished.

"This was definitely no accident," Abby stated.

"Great work, Abs," Gibbs said. "Let me know when you find an exact match for the sample."

Just as he was walking out, Gibbs's phone rang. Flipping it open with one hand, he answered gruffly.

"Gibbs."

"Jethro," Ducky's voice said on the other end, "I think you may want to come down here."

**. . .**

"You weren't supposed to be here for another 4 hours! What makes you think you can show up here unannounced, demanding release of the body?" Gibbs argued angrily. A legal representative of Jonathon Ryker had come to collect Lieutenant Ryker's body. Gibbs was not pleased.

"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but the ceremony is tomorrow and Mr. Ryker wants the body for funeral preparations. There's nothing you can do," the lawyer said calmly.

"The hell there isn't," Gibbs muttered.

"Look, I know you want to fight this, but the only outcome would be a nasty court battle. And in the midst of an investigation, that's the last thing you or Mr. Ryker needs. You're both after the same thing. You both want justice for Lieutenant Ryker. My suggestion is to continue your investigation, and if you find physical evidence which reinforces the need for the body, we'll be legally obligated to release it to you, as long as the need reveals itself before the body is buried."

"Perhaps he is right, Jethro," Ducky said softly.

Glancing sidelong at Ducky, Gibbs gave a brief nod. Without looking back, he exited the area. He knew that fighting wouldn't help matters. It would simply waste time. And time was one thing they had not nearly enough of.

Flipping his phone open, Gibbs impatiently dialed a number. Jonathon Ryker answered.

"Hello?"

"This is Agent Gibbs. You and I didn't get to talk for very long before, and I need to know where you stored those files. So if you'll so kindly oblige…"

"I think not, Agent Gibbs. My lawyer informed me that without a warrant, you have no right to access that information, so unless you have one to show me, this conversation is over."

Gibbs swore softly to himself. A warrant would take at least 24 hours…unless he pulled a few strings. Having nothing more to say to Ryker, he shut his phone, leaving Ryker to listen to the monotonous drone of the dial tone.

Sighing, he reluctantly started toward his destination. Unfortunately, he was going to have to pay a visit to the Director.

**. . .**

"This warrant is the only way we're gonna be able to catch our guy, Leon. I know you have the connections to push this warrant through. Use them," Gibbs said forcefully. He had been arguing with the Director for a few minutes now, and seemed to be gaining at least some ground. Some.

The Director eyed Gibbs thoughtfully. After a few moments of contemplation, he said, "I'll see what I can do. No guarantees, but I'll try. If all goes well, you'll have your warrant by tomorrow morning."

Gibbs grinned and said, "Thank you, Director." He turned around and pulled open the door.

"Oh, and Gibbs?" The Director called out.

"Yeah?"

"You owe me."

Smiling, Gibbs continued out the door, shutting it behind him. He had done all he could for now. It was just a matter of waiting for their warrant and the results from Major Mass Spec.

_Waiting_, he thought sarcastically. _My favorite._


	5. Secrets

**AN: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate the kindness and support!!! Keep it coming!**

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_Day of Funeral..._

The ring of Jonathon Ryker's phone resounded in Gibbs's ear. When Ryker finally answered, Gibbs got straight to the point.

"We have our warrant, Mr. Ryker. Where are the files?"

The voice on the other end hesitated, and then replied. "They're stored on an external drive in a storage garage." He listed off the address, and added, "I have no secrets, Agent Gibbs. If you want to investigate someone with secrets, have a chat with Kevin Willis."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any more time to talk. As you know, my wife's funeral is in a few hours. I need to go down to the cemetery and help prepare things. Goodbye, Agent Gibbs." With that, Ryker hung up.

Gibbs turned toward Ziva, the only other person in the room. "Ryker's files are in a storage garage. I want you to get the external drive and get back here as soon as possible. Think you can do that?"

Ziva nodded, getting the address details from Gibbs and swiftly exiting the room. Gibbs picked up his phone and called McGee.

"Yeah, Boss?" McGee answered after seeing his boss's number on the caller ID.

"I want you and Tony to re-interview Willis. Ryker mentioned something about him having secrets. Find out everything you can, then report back to me."

McGee felt another wave of nausea wash over him, but was spared from answering Gibbs, as the boss promptly hung up.

"What's the boss want?" Tony asked.

McGee held up a finger as he swallowed down the nausea threatening to illustrate itself. After a few moments, he said, "We have to re-interview Willis." He sneezed and leaned against his desk.

"You sure you're up to this, McIcky?" Tony said caringly.

McGee nodded, immediately regretting the movement. Knowing he would be unable to reach the bathroom in time, he grabbed the small garbage near his desk and retched into it. The puking spell lasted almost a full minute, leaving McGee swaying slightly.

Tony grabbed his keys and began walking toward the elevator. When McGee tried to follow, Tony stopped in his tracks and turned around, placing his palm firmly against McGee's chest.

"No you don't, Probie. You're staying here."

McGee's brow furrowed, a look of shock and anger darkening his face. He opened his mouth to protest, but Tony cut him off. "No offense, but with you in this condition, I can't guarantee that you'll have my back or, more importantly, your own. You'll just have to man the fort while I interview Willis."

"You can't be ser-" McGee's words were interrupted by a noisy, productive sneeze. He grabbed a tissue from his pocket and held it to his nose. "You can't be serious! I can handle myself just fine!" He insisted, though his words were almost laughable with the nasally pronunciation.

"You wanna test that theory? Risk both our lives?"

McGee seemed to be contemplating the words. Tony took advantage of this opportunity and said softly, "It's fine, Tim. Ziva's with Gibbs, right? She should be back any minute, and when she gets here, just tell her to meet me at Willis's house."

"Boss'll kill me…" McGee muttered.

Tony grinned. "Rule number 18." Stepping into the elevator, he looked at McGee. "Better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission."

The doors closed and McGee stared defeatedly at them for a moment. Then, his hand flew to his mouth and he sprinted to the bathroom.

**. . .**

McGee slumped heavily against the side of the bathroom stall. He had forgotten how exhausting the constant throwing up was. He'd been on the floor for what seemed like hours. _That's another wonderful benefit of being so sick_, McGee thought bitterly. _The complete loss of any concept of time_. His exhaustion and blurred senses made everything seem so slow...some rest would fix that…just a little sleep…a couple seconds of shut-eye…Just a few…

McGee's head shot up and he began shaking it back and forth. _Sleep…Sleep…No. No sleep. Did I? I couldn't have…How long have I been in here anyway?_

He glanced at his watch and his heart nearly stopped. It had been 15 minutes. 15 minutes since Tony left. He hadn't talked to Ziva.

Rising to his feet, McGee ignored the slight head rush and sprinted to the bullpen. As he ran to the group of desks, he was taken aback by the emptiness. No one was there…But Ziva was supposed to be there! She needed to back Tony up! Where was she?

He whipped out his phone, quickly dialing Gibbs's number. His boss answered gruffly.

"Boss? It's McGee. Is Ziva with you?"

"No, I'm in Interrogation. Ziva's picking up some evidence from a storage garage." Being the super-intuitive man he is, he sensed the panic in McGee's voice. "Why? What's the matter, McGee? What's going on?"

Fidgeting nervously, McGee quietly told his boss the situation.

"He WHAT?!" Gibbs's voice screamed over the line. McGee flinched, muttering constant apologies.

After a few moments, Gibbs said, "What's done is done. I'll call DiNozzo and see where he's at."

McGee closed his phone, rushing toward Interrogation to meet up with Gibbs.

**. . .**

After one ring, Tony picked up his cell. Peeking around the street to see if any cops were around, he opened it. Before he even got the chance to say anything, a very angry Gibbs was delivering a sharp dressing-down on the other end.

"…and why you even thought it was a good idea in the first place is beyond me. I thought I taught you well, but apparently you're hell-bent on proving me wrong. Did you completely forget about Rule 15 or did you just blatantly ignore it?"

"I know, I know…'Always work as a team'. But I didn't have a choice, Boss. McGee is in no condition to be at work at all, let alone interviewing a murder suspect. I made an executive decision. I'm almost there and Ziva's on her way. What's the problem?"

"The problem, DiNozzo, is that Ziva _isn't_ on her way. She's picking up important evidence. Had you stuck around long enough, you'd know that," Gibbs said angrily.

Tony sucked in a breath, a bit ashamed of his oversight. "That's my bad, Boss. I should have waited…But I'm only 10 minutes at most from Willis's house, so I might as well-"

"Don't even bother finishing that sentence, DiNozzo."

"What's the alternative, Boss? The funeral is in a few hours and we have nothing. Until that sample is verified, we have no evidence except apparently what Ziva's picking up. And this is our last chance to see if Willis knows anything more. We can't let him just slip through our fingers. What if he's our guy?"

Gibbs paused. Against his better judgment, he agreed with Tony. This could be their last chance.

"I promise I'll be careful, Boss. For what it's worth, I really don't think Willis is much of a threat. He seemed more upset than dangerous."

"I swear, DiNozzo, if you get injured, kidnapped or maimed in any way, I'll drag you back from wherever you are just so I can kill you. Got it?"

Tony smirked. "Of course, Boss. Not a hair out of place. Gotcha."

They both hung up. Back at NCIS, Gibbs sighed and whispered to no one, "Take care of yourself, DiNozzo."

**. . .**

Ziva stepped out of the elevator and into the bullpen. McGee and Gibbs were seated at their desks. The tension was palpable and the silence piercing.

"What's going on?" she asked no one in particular.

"Nothing. We just need to process this evidence as quickly as possible, so let's get going," Gibbs replied without looking up from his desk.

"Where's Tony?" Ziva asked suspiciously.

"He's interviewing Willis."

"Alone?" Ziva said, eyebrows raised. McGee glanced in Gibbs's direction apologetically.

"Yup. Let's see what we've got," Gibbs said, standing and taking the drive from Ziva's hands.

After a few minutes, McGee had everything hooked up, and the information was projected on the monitor. The team began weeding through the thousands of files, tackling the evidence piece by piece.

**. . .**

Tony knocked on the door of Kevin Willis's house. Willis answered, looking a bit better than he had the last time Tony saw him. The tear tracks were gone, as was the disheveled demeanor. He was wearing an apron covered in paint.

Willis wearily smiled, stepping aside to let Tony in. The two walked into the living room.

"How can I help you, Agent DiNozzo?"

"I have to ask you a few more questions," Tony replied, eyeing the door of the art room. Willis didn't seem to notice. His face was slightly troubled.

"Well, I'm not sure what else I can tell you, but ok. Let me just clean up and I'll get us some refreshments." He untied his apron and exited the room to the left, presumably where the kitchen was.

Tony felt a strange pull drawing him to the art room. Call it intuition or just a gut feeling, but Tony knew he had to see what was behind the door. He could hear Willis rummaging around in the kitchen and figured he had at least a few minutes until he came back. Standing quietly, he made his way over to the door. He opened it slowly and slipped inside the room.

When he looked up, his jaw dropped.

Directly in front of him was a huge canvas, taking up a large portion of the room. On it was a chillingly realistic portrait of Lieutenant Suzanne Ryker, lips softly pressed against the cheek of none other than Kevin Willis. Beside the canvas lay a framed picture, exactly the same. The large piece of art was obviously just a large-scale imitation. The image was real.

Tony stood in stunned silence, unable to tear his eyes from the scene.

Behind him, Kevin Willis emerged from the doorway.


	6. Discoveries

**AN1: So sorry for the delayed update. My basketball team went to State finals so I was gone all weekend. Then my sister (who is pregnant) had labor induced, but it didn't work, so I spent about 24 hours straight at the hospital. I've slept about 4 hours in the last two days. Ugh.**

**AN2: Thanks so much for the kind reviews! Please keep them coming!**

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Sensing someone's presence behind, Tony instinctively pulled his gun, whipping around and pointing it at Willis's face.

Willis's hands shot up in defense, eyes widened with shock and fear. "Whoa! Calm down, I can explain!"

"Oh yeah?" Tony said sarcastically. "Go ahead. I can't wait to hear this story. So tell me, exactly how did you kill Lieutenant Ryker?"

Willis vehemently shook his head with horror. "No! I didn't kill her! I-I…I loved her." Tony raised his eyebrows, obviously asking for more detail.

"We were together before she and Jon even got married. She was hesitant at first, but settled into the life of secrecy. I never felt too guilty…You can't help who you love, right?" Willis said with a sad smile. "Even if it's against the rules."

This statement struck Tony in an odd way, but he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind as Willis continued, tears welling up in his eyes.

"We were going to get married. Before she got back for her shore leave about a month ago, she told me she was going to talk to Jon, tell him she wanted a divorce. Our honeymoon was going to be just the two of us traveling across Europe. We were going to see it all…Paris, London, Berlin…Guess it didn't work out that way, did it?" He said with a humorless, bitter laugh. "Nothing turned out the way it was supposed to…She didn't want this. She wanted to live. She wanted to go places, see the world. She always talked about how one day she'd have a postcard for every country in Europe…She didn't want to be stuck in a dead-end marriage. She didn't want a job that kept her away from the people loved. Hell, she didn't even want to be buried!" Willis was now hysterical, tears pouring down his face. "You'd think that someone who didn't get anything they wanted in life would at least have their way in death!" He shouted with despair.

Tony furrowed his brow in confusion. "Cremation? But Jewish people don't believe in that…Something about consecrated ground…"

It was now Willis's turn to be confused. "Jewish? Suzie wasn't Jewish."

Tony's eyes widened as he slowly lowered his gun.

**. . . **

"I don't understand…there's nothing here! Why would Ryker be so uncooperative if there was nothing in the files?" McGee exclaimed. The team had looked through everything on the drive and their search had revealed nothing of importance. Other than being fully educated on Ryker's random online purchases, they had learned no new information.

"Perhaps as a distraction?" Ziva suggested.

"But a distraction from what?" McGee inquired.

"That's what we're gonna find out," Gibbs stated, just as his phone rang. He answered, his face impassive as he listened to the voice on the other end. "Be right down," he said into the phone. Closing it quickly, he headed to the elevator.

"Abby found a match."

McGee and Ziva scurried after Gibbs into the elevator.

**. . .**

The team stepped into the lab and was greeted by an ecstatic Abby, jumping up and down. Ducky was standing next to her.

"What're you doing here, Ducky?" McGee asked.

"It appears whatever Abigail has found is intriguing enough to include me. She called me a few minutes ago. I was just waiting for you all to arrive."

"This had better be good, Abs," Gibbs wearily stated.

"This is good, Gibbs. This is really good. Or really bad. Depends on how you look at it," Abby replied.

"Just tell us what it is, Abs," Gibbs said tersely.

Abby took a deep breath, emphasizing the importance of the moment. "The chemical in Lieutenant Ryker's bloodstream was a variation of potassium cyanide. The compounds were slightly altered, but the result is the same. The elements in the substance attack the system in a way which gives the victim the appearance of death. No pulse, no breathing, nothing."

Everyone looked absolutely dumfounded except for Ducky, who looked purely horrified. At the obvious miscomprehension of her co-workers, Abby continued.

"Ok, you all know Romeo and Juliet, right?" Her question was answered with a few brief nods. "The poison that Juliet took? Exactly like this one. Except to wake up from this one, you need the antidote injected into the bloodstream."

Gibbs stiffened and narrowed his eyes before quietly saying, "What exactly are you saying, Abby?"

Her eyes lit up gleefully. "Lieutenant Ryker isn't dead. The poison she was given is only fatal if an antidote isn't delivered within 48 hours or so."

Everyone's jaws dropped. No one attempted to mask their shock as the information sunk in.

McGee was the first to speak. "But…why?"

Abby was quick to answer. "The way I see it, either the Lieutenant is faking her death so she can run away, or…"

"What, Abs?"

"Well, maybe someone just wanted everyone to _think_ she was dead. Maybe they have something even worse planned, and if everyone thinks Lieutenant Ryker is dead, no one will be suspicious."

"So our murder investigation just turned into a rescue mission."

**. . .**

Tony's fingers flew across the keys on his phone as he rapidly dialed Gibbs's number. After a few rings, Gibbs answered.

"Gibbs."

"Boss…something hinky is going on."

"Hold on, Tony, I'm putting you on speaker." Gibbs turned to Abby, who processed his request. Everyone listened intently to Tony's voice.

"Turns out Willis and the Lieutenant were having an affair…but he insists he didn't kill her and I believe him…But the weird thing is, he says the Rykers aren't Jewish and never have been. Why would someone lie about that?"

Gibbs thought about the new information before telling Tony about the poison.

Tony's reaction was about the same as everyone else's at first. But after a few moments of stunned silence, he ventured a suggestion. "What if…Ryker knew about the affair? The best way to get back at Willis would be to take away the love of his life. And killing the Lieutenant would also give him revenge on her. A two for one deal."

On the other end, the team was contemplating the possibility. Then it was Ziva's turn to speak. "But why wouldn't he just kill her? Why would he poison her with something that there's an antidote to?"

"My gut tells me Ryker has a sadistic side. Maybe he wanted her to suffer," Gibbs said.

"What does any of this have to do with the Rykers not being Jewish?" McGee questioned. "Where's the connection?"

All the information was rolling around in Tony's mind as he contemplated the possibilities. _Jewish…What could be accomplished by pretending to be Jewish? No autopsy of course…that would help…What else?_

Tony's eyes widened as he said into the phone, "Jewish people have to be buried in consecrated ground. Ryker wanted her buried. Alive."


	7. Dig, Lift, Dump

**AN1: This chapter is dedicated to my beautiful new niece, Aryah Joan Lamb. Welcome to the world!!!**

**AN2: Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! Special shout-out to some of my constants: **

**NickTonyK, Writing For The Wall, TinTin11, PurpleCarpetsAgainstViolence, jgomez921, combatcrazy, BnBfanatic, sarahsrr, xenascully, Azamiko, Gaddkzmp, XX-Samantha-XX, diana teo**

**And of, course, thanks a million to my new readers and those that don't review! (Although...please do!)**

* * *

"I have to go, Boss. The funeral starts in 20 minutes. If I don't go now, it'll be too late," Tony said urgently into the phone.

Gibbs replied automatically. "No. No way, Tony. You're not going anywhere. We'll be there in thirty minutes. Just wait for back-up."

"Thirty minutes is too long, Boss. We wait that long, and the Lieutenant is dead."

There was a moment of reluctant silence. Tony said calmly, "It's now or never. You guys can meet me at the cemetery. I'll be careful, Boss. Gotta go."

Gibbs closed his eyes and listened to the dial tone. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the others.

"Guess we're just gonna have to trust DiNozzo on this one. Let's go."

The rest of the team grabbed their gear and headed to the car.

Gibbs was silent as he sped toward the cemetery. _I swear, DiNozzo, if you're not in one piece when we get there, I'll keep you off duty for a week._

**. . .**

Tony pulled up to the small cemetery, swiftly shutting his car door and making his way to the large monument labeled "Ryker". The door of the crypt was ajar. Tony opened it slowly, gun at the ready. It was empty except for a simple wooden casket in the center. The casket was open, revealing Suzanne Ryker inside.

Shoving his gun back into its holster, Tony rushed to the side of the coffin. He felt for a pulse at the Lieutenant's neck, feeling a strong and steady thump beneath his fingers. Looking more closely he saw an empty syringe lying on the ground. _Must be the antidote_, Tony thought. Beside the casket was a small table with a box of nails and a hammer neatly placed on it. Tony involuntarily shivered, thinking of what could have transpired had he been too late. _Enough screwing around, DiNozzo. You aren't out of the woods yet._

He slid his arms beneath Lieutenant Ryker's knees and head, lifting her from the coffin. Carrying her out of the crypt, Tony looked around for a place to lay her down. He spotted an inconspicuous patch of grass. Taking careful consideration of her weakened state, Tony laid her down and pulled out his phone. He wasn't surprised when Gibbs answered after one ring.

"What's your status, DiNozzo?" He said gruffly.

"I found Suzanne. She's alive. Someone already administered the antidote; I saw the syringe on the ground near her casket. But there's no sign of Ryker."

"Get that syringe and bag it. I want it run for prints. Where is Suzanne now?"

Tony glanced at the still body on the ground, the steady rise and fall of her chest reassuring him. "I think she's ok. Just unconscious right now. I laid her on the ground. What do you want me to do?"

A moment passed before Gibbs answered. "Leave her for now. Get that syringe."

Tony began walking toward the crypt as Gibbs's voice continued.

"What's the layout of the scene? Anything out of place? Tell me exactly what you see."

Tony bent down, slipping the syringe into his pocket. "Got it," he muttered to himself. He slowly stood, surveying the area before him. "I don't see much, Boss. Nothing strange. Nothing much at all really. Just the c-"

Tony's words were cut off and Gibbs heard a muffled yell and a struggle.

"DiNozzo?! Tony!" he yelled into the phone.

**. . .**

The hair on the back of Tony's neck stood up. He had hardly a moment to process the presence before it was upon him, raining down blows on his body. He dropped the phone and raised his hands to defend himself, to no avail. He could hear Gibbs's voice piercing from the forgotten phone.

Tony landed a punch into Ryker's abdomen before scrambling to his feet. Ryker recovered quickly, grabbing Tony's wrist when he tried to get to his gun. He twisted it painfully, throwing Tony to the ground. As Tony tried to regain his bearings, Ryker snatched the Sig from Tony's holster.

"Where the hell is she? Where is my wife?!" he screamed, shoving the gun in Tony's face.

Tony cradled his wrist and mustered up all the strength he had to venomously retort, "Safe. Away…from you…sick bastard."

With fluid agility, Ryker slammed the butt of the gun into Tony's skull, smiling with pleasure as he watched Tony's body go limp. Glancing around quickly, he stuck the gun into his pants and began lifting the deadweight. Without a second thought, he dropped Tony's body into the open casket. This wasn't the way he had planned for things to go, but there were other ways to make his wife pay. He would find her later. And this agent would pay for being nosy. All was well.

Ryker slipped his hand into the agent's pockets, pulling out his car keys. _Always have a getaway plan_, he thought to himself.

"What the hell are you doing?!" a horrified voice cried from the doorway. Whipping around, Ryker came face to face with a pudgy, middle-aged man. Ryker silently chastised himself. _The groundskeeper. Dammit, he slipped my mind. _The man's wide eyes were fixed on Tony's prone figure in the casket.

Without hesitation, Ryker raised the gun to the man's face. "Keep your mouth shut and listen to me. Are you listening?" he said menacingly. The pale face nodded.

"You're going to help me get this sealed and buried, do you understand?"

Hands raised, the groundskeeper stood an instinctive step back. "Whoa, whoa, calm down. Think this through. You don't want to do this. Just let the guy go. I won't tell anyone. Just let him go. Don't do this."

"You are in no position to be giving suggestions! Shut your mouth and help me nail this damn casket shut! NOW!" Ryker screamed. "Or else I will enlist the help of someone else and you will join Agent DiNozzo in his tomb." He waved the gun at the still-open coffin. The groundskeeper's eyes flicked from the gun to the coffin and back again. "Make your decision now. I haven't any time to waste," Ryker snarled.

"Okay…okay, I'll do it," the man said shakily. At gunpoint, he moved slowly toward the casket and began to close the lid. He paused briefly before closing it completely. He gazed upon the face of the man inside. Some facial muscles began twitching, signaling the awakening that would soon take place. Moisture formed in the groundskeeper's eyes. "Please forgive me," he whispered. He then closed the crack and turned toward Ryker.

Ryker motioned toward the nails and hammer on the table nearby. Fury and despair coursed through the groundskeeper's veins as he nailed the casket shut, each hit of the hammer bringing forth a wave of silent tears.

After a few minutes, the deed was done and Ryker shoved the gun into his back. "Time for step two. Help me carry the coffin."

Reluctantly, he obeyed. Both the men's muscles strained as they lifted the coffin and began carrying it outside the crypt. The two walked to the open hole in the earth. It took a few minutes to get their bodies properly situated for the maneuver, but soon enough, the casket was securely at the bottom of the deep pit. Ryker held the gun steady on the groundskeeper. With his free hand, he picked up a shovel and held it out to the man.

"Final step," he said with a smile.

The groundskeeper's eyes flooded with tears once more. "P-Please…d-don't make me…d-do this…"

The amusement left Ryker's face as his eyes narrowed with anger. "I've had enough of your hysterics. Take the damn shovel before I shoot you."

With shaky hands, the man did as he was told. He began a steady rhythm, digging the shovel into the fresh dirt, lifting it, and dumping it atop the wood. _Dig, lift, dump…dig, lift, dump...dig, lift, dump…_As the last section of the coffin slowly disappeared under the dirt, he wished it was him inside it. After what he had done, he deserved to die.

With the gun once more piercing his back, he allowed himself to be pushed back toward the crypt, where he deposited the dirty shovel with a shrill clang.

Ryker smiled gleefully. "Wonderful job. I thank you." As the groundskeeper opened his mouth to reply, the gun in Ryker's hand impacted with his head, sending the man's limp body to the ground. Sighing contentedly, Ryker grinned at his handiwork. _First things first_, he thought. _Get out of here. I can come back for Suzanne later. Who knows if she's even here…_

He made his way to the car parked haphazardly near the cemetery entrance. He got in, throwing the gun into the passenger's seat. He then put the keys in the ignition, and pulled out of the cemetery, leaving devastation in his wake.

**. . .**

Gibbs was driving so fast, McGee and Ziva were unable to open their mouths without fear of showing the whole car their lunches. McGee especially was focused on keeping his food down. Although he had begun feeling a little better, the intense car ride was doing nothing for his recovery.

But their battle with nausea was nothing compared to their concern for their friend. Gibbs's hands were gripping the wheel so tight, his knuckles were ghostly white. Fear was flashing through his eyes as the phone call replayed itself in his memory. The sounds of Tony struggling against some unknown force, coupled with the knowledge that there was nothing he could do, was enough to send Gibbs's mind spiraling. His only clear thought was, _Drive. Drive fast. Get to Tony._

McGee had forgotten about his ill state as guilt overtook him. _If I had only insisted on going with Tony…If I had only sucked it up. It's just a damn bug, and because of my weakness, Tony could be injured right now…or, God-forbid, worse…Can't think like that. Just focus on getting to Tony, _he told himself.

Ziva had seen the look on Gibbs's face after the phone call. She had heard the panic in his voice. That scared her more than anything. Tony meant so much to her. They had worked together for so long…been through so much together…If they didn't make it to him in time… He'd be gone. Could she live with that? Ziva shook the unpleasant thought from her mind as they grew closer and closer to the cemetery. Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the vehicle driving toward them…

"Is that Tony's car?" Ziva asked hopefully. Everyone watched the car coming nearer to them.

"Yeah…but that's not Tony," Gibbs said. He slammed his foot on the accelerator. Everyone held on for dear life as their car swerved and came to an abrupt stop. The maneuver had the effect Gibbs had hoped it would. Ryker wasn't expecting Gibbs's car to stop so suddenly and he instinctively slammed on the brakes. This gave Gibbs the perfect opportunity to draw his weapon and get out of the car.

"Put your hands up and get out of the car," Gibbs yelled to Ryker. He kept a safe distance, watching each of Ryker's movements precisely.

Ryker swore, then panicked. He grabbed the gun from the seat next to him. But before he could even raise it, Gibbs pulled his own trigger, sending a bullet through Ryker's forehead.

McGee and Ziva jumped out of the car, awaiting Gibbs's instruction.

"He's not going anywhere," Gibbs said. "Let's get Tony."

They got back in the car, and once more sped down the road. On the way, McGee called NCIS headquarters, informing the director about their situation. Vance said he would order another team to process the scene of Ryker's death. He wished the team luck in finding DiNozzo. _We just might need it,_ McGee thought to himself.

The car finally pulled up to the cemetery. Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva were out in a flash.

When they were on the phone, Tony had been in the Ryker's crypt, so the three of them made their way to the monument labeling the small building. A man was lying still in the doorway of the crypt. Gibbs rushed to his side.

After a few moments of jostling the man in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness, the team was rewarded with the fluttering of eyelids.

"I'm Agent Gibbs, NCIS. I'm looking for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Who did this to you? Have you seen my agent?" Gibbs questioned urgently.

Taking in his surroundings, the man's memory came rushing back. He gazed into Gibbs's concerned, intense blue eyes and his own eyes began filling with tears.

Gibbs was taken aback by the man's reaction. "Have you seen my agent?" he asked again. "Do you know where he is?"

The man nodded, drawing his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth, sobbing quietly.

"Well where the hell is he?!" Gibbs shouted impatiently. He didn't want to further upset the man, but Tony's life could be on the line and they had no time to waste.

The man lifted his tear-stained face. His pleading eyes suddenly deadened as he stared into the distance at the fresh patch of dirt. He didn't seem to register the others' presence as his eyes focused on the newly dug-up land, haunted by the knowledge of what lay beneath.

Gibbs followed the man's gaze, confused. His eyes narrowed as he studied the fresh dirt.

It hit them all simultaneously. Ziva gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. McGee swayed unstably, jaw falling open. Gibbs's eyes widened and he found himself frozen to the spot.

The groundskeeper continued rocking back and forth, muttering quietly, "Dig, lift, dump…dig, lift, dump…dig, lift, dump…"


	8. Harsh Possibilities

**AN1: The first part of this chapter is in Tony's POV. It's a little scattered, but I wanted to make it as realistic as possible and thought processes are not always the most rational!**

**AN2: Your reviews made my day! (Days, actually!) Thank you so much for the support. The encouragement keeps me going. Honestly, without all the reviews I got, this chapter would have taken much longer to write and probably wouldn't be of the same quality. So on behalf of my muse and myself, THANK YOU!!!**

_**

* * *

**__**Tony **_

My muscle twitches, sending a spasm of pain through my body. Or at least I think it does…To be honest, I'm not really sure. I'm feeling a bit disconnected from the rest of myself at the moment. I suppose that's what happens when you die. Is that what this is? It must be…Is it sad that I don't even know? Dying is harder than it seems. It's more subtle than I would have thought. Well, if I'm gonna die, I'm sure as hell not doing all the work. Death can come and get me himself. That's right, I'm not moving. Silent protest. Get up off your ass and collect me yourself, Death. I'm not doing you any favors.

Hmm, it's been a few minutes and I'm still not dead…at least I don't think I am. Death must be busy…Dinner plans maybe. I'm good with that. If it keeps me alive, who am I to complain? Although my eyelids are getting pretty heavy…But I thought they were already closed? It must not be my eyelids I'm feeling. Although I'm not _feeling_ much of anything. That stopped awhile ago. It's like I'm nothing…Just a disembodied thought.

So you're Death, huh? Just blackness? Not very original. In all the movies I've seen, I don't think Death has ever been depicted as just blackness. It's terribly uninteresting. Not much different than being unconscious…aside from the fact that I'm completely aware of what's going on. Yup, I'm dying. Great. Just peachy.

Now that I'm thinking about it, though…I don't think I wanna die. I realize you must get that a lot, but I really don't think I'm ready, so…Do you think we could reschedule? Raincheck? Please? I can't die without ever telling Ziva that I think I love her. We've shared so much together. I never told her the truth about how I felt…she deserves the truth...And don't tell me I'm gonna die without ever telling Gibbs how much he means to me. The man changed my life. Gave me someone to look up to…someone to idolize…And what about Probie? He's been a great friend to me. I can't just leave him hanging…Plus I would like to see if he and Abby ever rekindle their McRomance. I always thought they were cute together, in a dorky, geeky sort of way…Oh my God, Abby…She'll be crushed. I know she's strong, but it would take a while to get over something like this…Plus I never lent her The Breakfast Club…I promised her I would, but I forgot to bring it in. My fault, I know, but don't make her suffer. There's no reason she should miss out on such noteworthy cinema just because of my mistake. John Hughes is such a genius…countless…classics…not her…fault…

I really…don't think…I'm ready yet…

I'm just…not…ready…

Please…not…yet…

Please…

**. . .**

After the shock wore off, Gibbs and the team leapt into action. Gibbs tried to remain cool and collected as he sprinted toward the fresh dirt, shovel in hand. _Dammit, DiNozzo, you'd better hold on. We're right here. Just don't give up._

Ziva was silent as she scanned the area for another shovel. She forced herself to forget what it was for. When she thought of Tony below the surface of the earth, slowly and painfully suffocating… _Oh God, Tony. Oh God. Please be okay. Who am I kidding, you are buried alive. Who knows if you will ever be ok again. Just don't be dead. Please don't be dead…_

"McGee! Call an ambulance!" Gibbs shouted, stabbing his shovel into the ground.

McGee pulled out his phone and dialed 911. He gave the operator their location and when she asked about the victim's condition, he replied, "We're not sure of the extent yet, but mainly he's suffering from oxygen deprivation."

"Under what circumstances?" she asked calmly.

"He's been," McGee began, his voice cracking. "He's been buried alive."

After a moment's pause, the operator gave the usual "just hold on sir the ambulance will be there as soon as possible try to stay calm" speech. McGee hung up and ran over to join his friends, who were working furiously to dig up 6 feet of dirt.

Gibbs and Ziva were both covered in soil from head to toe. They had made significant progress in their dig, although they still had a few feet to go. Furiously, they gouged hole after hole into the brown earth, chipping their way closer to Tony, bit by bit. It seemed they had found a rhythm. As one dug their shovel into the aperture, the other would dump their shovel. It was a constant beat of digging and dumping.

McGee felt out of place as he lost himself in the cadence of their motions. He stood, eyes fixed on the scene, in silent horror. They were digging for Tony. Beneath the many pounds of soil was his partner, his friend…slowly dying. Each moment that passed took time from Tony's life. McGee's eyes misted as the harsh reality of possibility hit him. He may never see his friend again. The twinkling eyes, the beaming smile…He shuddered to think that he may never again be called Probie or hear constant movie references.

He continued watching the steady movements of Gibbs and Ziva and found himself appalled at their calm exteriors. McGee was fairly certain his face expressed the terror he was feeling. Yet upon inspection of Gibbs and Ziva's faces, he found nothing but blank determination. Both seemed wholeheartedly focused on the task before them.

Had McGee not been so distracted by his own fear and worry, he might have seen the creases of concern on Gibbs's forehead. Or the tears pricking the corners of Ziva's eyes.

_Tony's gotta be ok_, McGee thought determinedly. _He survived the plague, he survived days chained to a murderer… he even survived a broken heart and explosion in the same day! He's gotta make it. It's in his nature. He's always been a lucky S.O.B. That's what's gonna get him through this. _

Although in the back of his mind, McGee couldn't help but wonder if Tony's luck had finally run out.

He was snapped from his reverie by the muffled thud of metal on wood. The abrupt sound drew his eyes to the deep pit Gibbs and Ziva had created. He sprinted over, stopping just short of the edge of the chasm in the ground. Ziva had already hoisted herself out of the hole. She stood silently next to McGee, not even bothering to brush the clumps of dirt from her clothing.

Gibbs was frantically clearing the thin layer of dirt from the top of the casket. After a few moments, the lid was clear and he dug his fingers beneath the rim of the wooden coffin, using all his leverage to pull up. The lid didn't budge. Forcing himself not to panic, he tried again. He gritted his teeth and tensed his arms, preparing for the enormous strain. Silently, he counted in his head before heaving his weight upwards. His fingers burned at the sharp friction and his muscles shook with the exertion. Nothing. Ziva's breath caught as she realized their battle was not yet over. They were so close...mere inches from Tony…

"Gibbs!" She shouted, bending over to pick up the shovel on the ground. With wearily determined eyes, Gibbs looked up at Ziva. Without pause, she tossed the shovel to him. He understood immediately.

Wedging the lip of the shovel into the minute crevice between the coffin and its lid, Gibbs pushed down with all his weight on the handle of the shovel. A nail popped out of the wood, creating a small crack beneath the lid. The sudden progress invigorated Gibbs and he repositioned himself, pushing down even harder. A few more nails lifted from the wood. _One more push_, Gibbs thought to himself. He was glad Tony couldn't hear his thoughts, knowing he would've taken that opportunity to make some crude birthing joke.

Blowing out a deep breath, Gibbs used all his leverage, putting his weight directly above the handle. With an almighty push, the coffin's lid displaced completely, revealing a motionless Tony.

His hands lay limply at his sides, coated in blood. Some of it was dried and the rest was leaking from rough, jagged slices in the flesh. Gibbs could see small splinters and bits of wood peeking up through the ruined skin. He visibly flinched as he briefly glanced at the bloody stains smeared across the underside of the lid. _Dear God, please tell me we weren't too late_, Gibbs silently prayed. Carefully sliding his arms beneath the deadweight of Tony's limp form, he thrust himself up, cringing at the audible crack his knees gave in protest. _Not as young as I used to be._ He lifted Tony as far as he could without dropping him.

Ziva and McGee, who had been poised for action the entire time, rushed to help. They each grabbed Tony's body and gently lowered his prone form to the ground. In a flash, Gibbs was out of the pit. He fell to his knees beside Tony.

Sirens sounded in the background, but Gibbs's only focus was the man before him. He bent over Tony's mouth and turned his head sideways, listening intently for any breath sounds. He could hear nothing. He couldn't help but notice the blue tint of Tony's lips. It was nothing like with the plague…this blue was paler…deathly.

He laid his head gently against the unmoving chest, straining to hear the steady rhythm that would tell him there was still life left in Tony's body. He longed to hear the soft, steady thump of Tony's heart.

_Please, Tony. I didn't come all this way just to lose you. I'm not leaving here with a corpse._

Gibbs was suddenly pulled back from Tony as a hand grabbed his arm and gently tugged. He spun his head around, ready to land a punch, but stopped in midair when he realized it was Ziva pulling him back. His eyes blazed with anger. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he said anything, Ziva quietly said, "The paramedics are here."

He turned his fierce gaze back to Tony who, surely enough, was surrounded by paramedics. One was rhythmically squeezing an oxygen mask over Tony's mouth, pumping air into his lungs. Another had his hands clasped firmly on Tony's now-bare chest, pounding out a heartbeat rhythm. A third was preparing the small machine that would shock the heart back into motion. They had attached a heart monitor which was now droning out a piercing solitary beep. The noise sliced into Gibbs's soul.

The team watched, stoically frozen, as the paramedics shouted, "Clear!" and Tony's body jerked off the ground. For a brief moment, no sound was heard but the wind against the trees. No one moved. No one dared even breathe. Then…

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…_

A collective sigh of relief was felt within the entire group. The paramedics began packing up their equipment and prepping Tony for transport.

As they were loading him onto the stretcher, Tony's eyes fluttered open. Gibbs watched as a myriad of emotions flowed through them. First calm awakening as he blinked his eyes, then confusion as he took in his surroundings, and finally blatant, unbridled fear. His arms began flailing and his legs kicked out. Taken unawares, the medics desperately reached out to restrain him.

The heart monitor was beeping sporadically at a lightning pace. One of the paramedics desperately shouted out, "If we don't get him calmed down, he's gonna go into cardiac arrest again!"

Gibbs rushed to Tony's side and gently took his chin with his hand, turning it toward his own face. He looked deep into the hazel depths of Tony's eyes. He inwardly flinched at the outright terror shining through them. After a few moments, Tony's eyes began focusing on Gibbs's face. The monitor slowed to a regular pace.

"You're ok, Tony. I'm right here. You're ok," he said soothingly. Though the fear was not yet gone, Tony had stopped fighting, allowing his arms and legs to rest limply against the stretcher.

McGee and Ziva's eyes were wide with worry as they watched the scene play out. Ziva looked down at her hands and saw they were shaking uncontrollably. She quickly clasped them together behind her back, hoping McGee hadn't seen her weakness. Why was this having such an effect on her? She looked into Tony's frightened eyes and felt a pang in her chest.

"B-Boss," Tony said, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Shh, don't try to talk DiNozzo. They're taking you to the hospital. You're gonna be just fine," Gibbs replied, not breaking contact with Tony's eyes.

"Su-Suzanne…she's behind the c-crypt…You have to…get her before…Ryker does. She's right behind…the big bush," he insisted weakly. Gibbs continued to shush him, which got Tony agitated. He began squirming in the stretcher, eyes wide, trying to get off.

Gibbs saw Tony's discomfort, so he stated simply, "Ryker isn't a problem."

At this, Tony visibly relaxed. A slight grin appeared. It was short-lived however, as the events of the day made their exhausting presence known.

Gibbs broke eye contact with Tony to look at McGee and Ziva, silently ordering them to find Lieutenant Ryker. McGee nodded before turning around and jogging toward the crypt.

Ziva remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes from Tony. She hardly noticed when Gibbs stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. It wasn't until he shifted directly in front of her, obscuring her view of Tony, that Ziva was drawn out of her thoughts.

"He'll be fine, Ziva," Gibbs said softly. His icy blue eyes searched her face, taking in the tear tracks and worry lines. Embarrassed at her candid behavior, Ziva quickly cleared her throat and blinked away the moisture in her eyes.

"Of course he will be. I know that," she said unconvincingly. Clearing her throat once more, she turned around with a sidelong glance at Tony. She was stopped by Gibbs's hand, swiftly spinning her back around.

He looked deeply into her dark brown orbs and said firmly, "He will be ok. You know as well as I do that he's a stubborn son of a bitch. He can pull through this. You need to start believing that. Because if you don't…he won't."

Ziva nodded her understanding and gave Gibbs a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly. She turned around, jogging to catch up with McGee. Briefly, the corner of Gibbs's mouth lifted in a crooked grin before he turned his attention back to Tony, who was being loaded into the back of the ambulance.

He gazed upon the weak, battered body of his senior agent. _You'd better not make a liar out of me, DiNozzo._


	9. Hospital Waiting Game

**AN: Thank you all super-much for the encouraging reviews! I wanted to get something out to you during the break, so here's your reward! Hope you enjoy! **

**And don't forget to review on your way out. Even if it's only 2 words! 2 is better than nothing and I'll take what I can get ;) **

* * *

McGee wrung his hands nervously as he sat next to Ziva in the waiting room of Bethesda. The two had just arrived after tying up all the loose ends at the cemetery. Lieutenant Ryker had been found, safely sleeping right where Tony had said she was. She was currently in her own room of the hospital, sedated and resting comfortably as machines pumped any remaining toxins out of her bloodstream.

The groundskeeper had been brought in for questioning, but in his present mental state, it was decided that he was not a credible witness. He was enrolled in mandatory sessions with a highly recommended psychologist, Dr. Callie Summers. If his condition improved within a few months, they would get his statement then.

The scene had been investigated and cleared. With Ryker dead, the case was officially closed and the team's only focus was Tony.

Gibbs was currently off searching for someone who could give him update on the agent. He'd ridden with him in the ambulance, but as soon as the hospital doors opened, he was whisked away, out of Gibbs's sight.

Ducky had disappeared as soon as he arrived, presumably to help attend to or at least look in on Tony. It had been hours since anyone had seen Tony, and everyone was on edge. It was the typical hospital waiting game…And no one wanted to play. Even Abby had a dark cloud over her head. The energetic Goth was snapping at anybody within a two-foot radius.

"Would you stop fidgeting, McGee?!" Abby said, irritated. She had sped to the hospital as soon as she heard about Tony. Her patience had been put to the test in the few hours at the hospital. She wanted to see Tony. She wanted to see Tony _now_.

"Look, I'm just as worried as you are, but there's no need for you to take it out on me!" McGee argued.

"That's not fair, McGee!" she countered.

"Will the two of you stop bickering!" shouted Ziva. Her face was pale, except for the dark smudges of dirt she had yet to wash off. Anger flashed briefly through her eyes, but was quickly replaced by fear. Fear of Tony's future. Fear of her own if he didn't survive.

Seeing the pain in Ziva's eyes, Abby wrapped her arms around her and softly said, "I'm sorry, Ziva. We're just scared. I know you are, too. We won't fight any more." She turned to McGee and mouthed words of apology. He gave an understanding smile.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice said from the doorway. All three heads shot up in unison, gazing upon Gibbs's face. Concern and anticipation was etched in all their features as they waited desperately for news.

Gibbs shook his head and said, "Ducky's on his way to bring us up to speed. All I know is Tony's stable and in ICU." Everyone relaxed a bit in relief, but the tension was still present, as they didn't know the specifics of Tony's condition. Without details, none of them could relax completely. In fact, they probably wouldn't be able to relax until they saw Tony for themselves.

Everyone's eyes flew to the door as Ducky walked through, taking a deep breath. He didn't waste time in informing everyone of Tony's condition. His eyes panned the group, who listened intently to his words.

"Tony's in ICU right now. They treated him for asphyxiation and a few minor injuries. He's on a ventilator," Ducky said. Upon seeing the shock on their faces, he continued, "They wanted to be safe, especially because of his medical history. His lungs were already compromised from the plague, and being deprived of oxygen for so long did him no favors. It's a miracle there was no brain damage. Tony was a lucky young man, as usual." McGee smiled at the thought which was so similar to what he had been thinking mere hours ago. "The doctors are monitoring him closely. They are very wary of delayed shock…And because his heart stopped, they think his cardiovascular system was weakened." This elicited a small gasp from Abby. Ducky looked at her calmly and said, "But the fact that they brought him back with only one shock from the defibrillator is a good sign. It means he wasn't too far gone before you got to him. No other serious injuries were sustained, thankfully."

As the information sunk in, Gibbs asked, "What other injuries did he have, Duck?"

The M.E. sighed before replying. "He had a minor concussion, 3 broken toes, and a sprained wrist, along with some extensive abrasions on his hands. The cuts were mostly superficial, albeit painful. However, some were more severe and required stitches. The doctors believe they removed all the splinters from his skin and if any remain, they'll work out of his system in their own time."

Everyone was silent for a moment as they reflected upon the manner in which the injuries were sustained. Trying to dig and bash your way out of a closed coffin would have that effect on a person's body...

Ducky continued talking, hardly noticing the others' silence. "They should take him off the ventilator in a few hours or less if his lungs respond well. And he'll need to be kept on oxygen for 3-4 days after that. When he goes home, they'll send him with an oxygen tank, just in case. One can never be too careful. But all in all, the prognosis is good. They believe his physical injuries should heal up in a few weeks maximum."

This got Gibbs's attention. "What do you mean _physical _injuries?"

Ducky smiled sadly. "Jethro, I know you think of the boy as resilient and unshakably strong, as you trained him to be. But everyone has their breaking point. And even Anthony couldn't possibly come out of this unscathed. He was buried alive, Jethro. I'm not sure even I can grasp what he went through. The hopelessness, the panic, the despair. I shudder to think of how it feels to be in that situation. This isn't going to just blow over. This time, it'll take more than a few days in the hospital to recover. Anthony's going to need our support now more than ever."

Ducky's words struck a chord in everyone and they took a few more moments to compose themselves. Ziva took a deep breath and straightened her back, gently brushing off the smudges of dirt on her shirt. Though she would like nothing more than to find a secluded corner and cry her heart out, she knew she couldn't have that luxury. _I must be strong. For Tony,_ she told herself.

"When can we see him?" Abby asked quietly. Everyone was so focused on Ducky's answer that no one noticed McGee's hand clasped firmly around hers. She gently stroked the back of it, grateful for the physical support.

"He'll be awake anytime now and I'm sure he'd welcome a visit from friends."

No one wasted any time. They all began walking toward the ICU, Ducky in swift pursuit. In less than a minute, they were poised outside Tony's room, ready to enter. Behind them, Ducky said decisively, "Perhaps interaction in moderation would be best. We mustn't suffocate the boy."

Everyone cringed at the statement. Even Ducky himself closed his eyes a moment, willing himself not to dwell on the insensitive wording.

"I'm sorry," he recovered quickly. "What I mean to say is we shouldn't overwhelm him with an abundance of visitors. He's been through quite the ordeal and needs his rest."

Gibbs nodded his acknowledgement before walking quietly into the room. McGee looked tenderly at Abby, who glanced inconspicuously at Ziva. With a soft smile, she tightened her grip on McGee's hand and pulled him gently down the hallway, toward the waiting room.

Seeing the movement, Ziva turned around suspiciously, opening her mouth in question. Abby looked over her shoulder, smiled, and winked. It was all the answer Ziva needed. She silently followed Gibbs's lead, slipping through the doorway and entering the room.

Tony was lying flat on the bed, unmoving except for the artificial rise and fall of his chest. His hands were wrapped in heavy gauze, the bandages covering the gruesome wounds in his flesh. With the blanket covering the majority of his body, no other visible signs of his suffering could be seen. But he was no doubt in great distress, both physically and emotionally.

Gibbs stood stoically beside the bed, gazing upon the peaked face of his agent. His eyes absorbed the many wires, machines, and tubes, yet saw only Tony. His singular focus was the man before him. The man who had once again fought through hell and come back again. _When does it end, Tony?_ Gibbs asked his agent. No sound left his mouth. None was meant to. Somehow, words never seemed necessary when communicating with Tony. In hindsight, the lead agent wondered if perhaps words were more important than he thought.

Ziva glided into the chair next to Tony's bed. She sat down and lightly took his hand in her own. For a moment, she forgot about Gibbs's presence and lost herself in the steady rhythm of Tony's chest, calming her fears and putting her mind at ease, if only slightly. Her slender fingers stroked the rough bandages, her hand squeezing gently in support.

They maintained this position for about five minutes, neither speaking a word to the other. Both were lost in thoughtful concern for their partner, their colleague, their friend. Their attentiveness paid off as they saw Tony's brow furrow and his fingers twitch.

He was waking.


	10. Atlas

**AN1: Beginning of this chapter is in Tony's POV as well. It's incredibly fun to write! Sorry if there are mistakes or things that don't make sense. It's late and I'm supposed to be asleep, and if my mom finds me, I'm dead.**

**AN2: On a lighter note, thanks so much for the support! Your reviews continue to inspire me. I really hope you enjoy this chapter!**

_**

* * *

**__**Tony**_

Heavy…Everything feels so…heavy.

Damn, I did die. I died and now I'm in some crazy Greek mythological hell. And I'm Atlas. Great, The whole freaking world on my shoulders. Awesome.

Although -and yes, I do realize how philosophically self-reflective this is- the feeling isn't all that unfamiliar. Who am I even talking to? I'm Atlas for God's- or _gods'_ rather- sake. Does Atlas have any friends? Or is that part of his punishment? Most likely. I know how that is. All alone…no other gods to talk to…

But wait, no, that's not right. Atlas wasn't a god. Atlas was -_is_- no, _was_…Oh, who cares. Point is, Atlas was a Titan. McGeek told me that once. I can't believe I remembered. Wow, that's impressive, even by my standards!

Hmm…now there's other stuff, too…tingling…pressure…burning. Ow, there's burning! Ugh, my throat feels like it's on fire! Now this is a lot more like I envisioned hell…What put me in hell anyway? I think I've been a generally good person. I try to be nice to people…unless they're assholes. Then I can be kinda rude. But in the words of Team America, 'there are three types of people in this world!'...Ok, we won't go into that speech…It's thinking like that that got me into hell in the first place.

Wait a second, though…I was alive! Wasn't I? I was dead…at least I _think_ I was…then I was alive. I was looking at Gibbs, I remember. I was scared. I was so scared…Why was I scared? Hmm…how did I even die?

Of course. I can remember some random, trivial fact McGeek spits out, but I can't remember the circumstances of my own death. Ain't life grand?...No response…Ah well, it was a rhetorical question anyway.

Ok, focus now, DiNozzo. Death. Dead. Dying. No life. Dead. Hmm…nope, nothing. Ok, maybe if I don't focus on it, it'll come to me.

But what else do I have to focus on?

I could always just think about the strange burning sensation coming from my throat. That should be fun. It's weird, though…As much as it hurts, I feel as if it's helping at the same time. Man, I finally feel like I can _breathe_! Breathe…breathing…I couldn't…I couldn't breathe…

The burning is getting worse. So is the other stuff. There is definitely someone or something squeezing my hand. I couldn't breathe…That's why I was so scared. I couldn't breathe…Why couldn't I-

Oh, shit. Maybe ignorance really is bliss.

**. . .**

Gibbs and Ziva both held their breath as they watched their friend return to consciousness. His eyes shifted back and forth beneath his lids and the heart monitor picked up its pace minutely. His fingers continued to twitch against Ziva's hand, which began softly caressing them.

"Wake up, Tony. We are here. Wake up for us," Ziva said softly. Tony's face slackened at the calming voice. Then his brow furrowed slightly.

"Come on, DiNozzo. You know I don't condone sleeping on the job. Wake up," Gibbs said sternly, trying to disguise the tremor in his voice. _Please open your eyes, Tony._

Slowly but surely, the darkened eyelids began to lift, revealing sparkling hazel eyes. They took a moment to absorb his surroundings and the faces of Gibbs and Ziva. Tony's eyes flitted around the room before finally resting on the tube protruding from his mouth. His eyes widened in terror and pain, and his hands shot up to the offending object, moving to expel it.

"No, you don't!" Gibbs said strongly. He grabbed Tony's bandaged hands, pinning them to the bed. "Ziva, talk to him! You need to calm him down before he rips his vent out!" he cried fiercely.

Ziva knelt right next to Tony, her face mere inched from his. "Tony…," she whispered tenderly. This got no response, as Tony continued to thrash against Gibbs's hands. "Tony," she said a little louder, but with the same soft tone. Careful to avoid the ventilator tube, she delicately laid her hand on his opposite cheek, turning his face gently toward hers. "You are safe," she stated firmly. "You have a ventilator to help you breathe. It is helping you, Tony. You mustn't fight it." Deep brown penetrated fearful hazel as Ziva gazed intently into Tony's eyes. "Don't fight it," she repeated softly.

The thrashing ceased and the heart monitor slowed once more. Tony's hands gave up the fight against Gibbs. He cautiously released his grip.

Tony turned to look at Gibbs, who raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"You can never do things the easy way, can you, DiNozzo?"

Tony attempted a slight smile around the ventilator tube, but failed miserably. Gibbs shook his head. "Don't try to do anything. They're keeping you on that vent for a few more hours, and then they'll see how your lungs are doing. So don't be difficult. You think you can try that for once, DiNozzo?"

Tony nodded slightly, his eyes slipping closed. He shook his head back and forth as they reopened. Then, they began to close again. He blinked hard and opened them, restlessly fighting against his body's exhaustion.

"You can sleep, Tony," Ziva said quietly. "Your body has been through a lot and needs rest. We will be right here when you wake up again."

Tony turned his head toward Gibbs, silently asking permission. Gibbs smiled and nodded. Without further ado, Tony fell into a deep sleep.

Ziva and Gibbs settled into their positions, relaxed, but ready for the moment Tony awakened again.

**. . .**

_Several hours later…_

Abby stretched and yawned before looking upon the pale face of her friend. Her bright eyes immediately darkened with sadness. Unable to stand watching the motionless figure, Abby averted her gaze toward her other friends. Gibbs was sitting straight up, his eyes locked on Tony's prone form. Ziva was dozing, her head and arms resting on the bed. Even in sleep, her hand firmly gripped Tony's. McGee was pinned beneath Abby, seated in the chair he had pulled over from the room next door. She grinned sheepishly and tried to adjust her position to make McGee at least slightly less uncomfortable. It didn't appear to be working, as he released a muffled groan.

"Sorry," she whispered. McGee just grinned tiredly in reply.

"Is Ducky back yet?" he asked quietly. Abby shook her head. As soon as Gibbs had told everyone that Tony was asleep, Ducky decided his time would be best spent autopsying Ryker, so the case could be closed for good. He and Palmer had come in to check on Tony briefly before driving back to NCIS. Ducky had assured Abby that it wouldn't take too long to complete the autopsy, and he'd be back in no time.

Like clockwork, Ducky walked through the door. Abby beamed at his arrival, but her smile quickly faded when Ducky asked about Tony's condition.

"He still hasn't woken up yet, Ducky…Is that bad?" She asked concernedly.

"My dear, his body has suffered through terrible trauma. It's good that he's resting soundly. Give him a bit more time. He should be waking up very soon," he replied calmly.

The sound of voices woke Ziva from her soft slumber. Her eyes immediately shot to Tony, but reassured by his sleeping form, she turned her attention to the others in the room. They were all standing, eyes fixed on Tony, yet the tension in the room was not overpowering.

Gently pushing Abby off his lap, McGee stood up and said, "I'm getting some coffee. Anyone want anything?"

Gibbs simply looked at him, blue eyes boring into McGee's.

"Right, of course. Um…Anyone else?" he stuttered awkwardly. Palmer raised a hand.

"I'll go with you. I could use some caffeine.

Abby also perked up.

"I'll come, too!"

The three exited the room, leaving only Gibbs, Ziva, and Ducky gathered loyally around Tony's bed. They kept silent vigil for a few moments before a low groan emitted from the weakened figure on the bed. Tony's heart monitor quickened its pace and without warning, Tony's eyes flew open, wide and terrified. He was obviously in great distress as he moaned and writhed in the bed.

Gibbs was first to respond. He was up in a flash, hand running through Tony's hair soothingly. He whispered softly to Tony before turning to Ducky, allowing his vulnerability to show momentarily as he asked shakily, "What's going on, Duck?"

"I believe Anthony's body is fighting the ventilator. Just keep him comfortable. I'll get a doctor."

With that, he was out of the room. Ziva shook the sleep out of her mind and busied herself whispering to Tony and rubbing his arm comfortingly.

Not a minute later, a man in a white coat, accompanied by Ducky, shuffled into the room. Disregarding the visitors, he turned his focus immediately to Tony.

"Mr. DiNozzo, can you hear me?"

Tony whimpered quietly and nodded slowly.

"You're probably experiencing a burning sensation right now, is that correct? Do you feel as if you need to cough?"

Tony nodded emphatically, bringing a small grin to Gibbs's face. Ziva and Ducky both stared intently at the doctor's motions.

"Ok, on the count of three, I'm going to ask you to cough. You must cough hard, Mr. DiNozzo. That is the only way to safely remove the ventilator. You understand?"

Another tight nod from Tony, and the doctor firmly grabbed the ventilator tube and began easing it out of Tony's mouth.

"One…two…three!"

With one swift motion, the doctor pulled the tube out and placed it with the rest of the machine, out of the way.

Tony's body was tensed as he went back and forth between coughing and gasping. The doctor sat him up, placing a strong yet gentle hand on his back.

"That's it. Come on. Slow and steady, Mr. DiNozzo."

Tony continued to gasp for air. His chest heaved uncontrollably as he desperately attempted to oxygenate his lungs. The doctor's brow furrowed and he looked anxiously at the rapidly increasing heart monitor. Gibbs's eyes shot to the jagged lines on the screen before looking at the crestfallen expression on Ziva's face. Her eyes locked with his, wild with worry. Ducky rushed solemnly to assist the doctor, who was pressing an oxygen mask over Tony's nose and mouth.

"What the hell is going on?!" Gibbs shouted at the doctor. He couldn't stand this. It was bad enough when Tony was hacking up a lung in Isolation. It had been 5 years since that happened, yet Gibbs still had nightmares. He would wake up in a cold sweat, with the image of blood and blue lips blazing in his mind.

Gibbs shook the unpleasant memories from his mind and threw a piercing glare at the doctor.

"I'm not sure, but if he doesn't start breathing properly, he'll go into respiratory arrest!" the doctor said desperately.

Gibbs bent down, putting his face directly in front of Tony's. "DiNo-" he began. His words died on his lips as he looked into Tony's eyes. The lively hazel was completely deadened and clouded with inner turmoil. The gaze was unfocused, a million miles away. It was a look Gibbs had seen in his old Marine buddies many times. It was the look of someone trapped in a flashback.

**. . .**

_Tony was vaguely aware of persistent beeping somewhere. But the annoying sound was muted by the pressure of the world around, collapsing in on him without mercy. Everything was so dark…so tight…_

_He desperately tried to open his eyes, but when he did, no sight met him. The blackness was all-consuming, closing in on every fiber of his being. He moved to lift his limbs…to fight against the unknown presence. But to his horror, he found nothing to lift. The Blackness had already devoured his body, and now he was left, nothing but a terrified consciousness._

_He could feel the void rapidly approaching, threatening to consume everything he knew. This terrifying reality shocked him into submission as he felt the Blackness grab him. Somehow, even without a body, Tony could feel its decrepit hands gripping him. He had no choice but to give in…He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think…_

"Tony!"

_A voice pierced through the dark desperation. A familiar voice. Who was that?_

"Come on, DiNozzo. You need to come back to us. Now, Tony!"

_Whoever it is seems quite insistent…_

"Tony…" _This was a different voice. Softer…I like this voice…Actually…I think I love this voice…_

"Come on, Tony. Look at me. Look into my eyes. I need you to snap out of it now, Tony. _We_ need you to snap out of it."

_There's that voice again. So beautiful…So intoxicating…Ok, I'll try! I'm trying…I'm coming…Don't go…_

**. . .**

Everyone sighed in relief as Tony's heart monitor converted to a regular pace. Slowly, Tony blinked his eyes, focusing on the concerned faces of his friends. His mind hardly registered the oxygen mask on his face. He felt a painful throb in his hands and fingers, and a slight headache.

"Took you long enough, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped, disguising his relief with impatience.

"S-Sorry, Boss," Tony whispered breathlessly, his words muffled from behind the mask.

Gibbs just shook his head, allowing Ducky to begin his fussing.

"That was quite close, my boy. You gave us all a scare. I think it would be appreciated if you refrained from doing that again," the M.E. chattered. He continued his conversational monologue as he checked Tony's vitals and adjusted the bandages.

Ziva and Gibbs exited the room to find their friends and tell them of Tony's awakening.

As Ducky blathered on, Tony let the events of the day and their repercussions wash over him. A tidal wave of irrational guilt slammed into his thoughts. He'd make them worry. He'd put them all through pain and discomfort for hours. No one deserved that, especially on his behalf.

"Anthony?"

Tony's head shot up to Ducky. "Sorry. Um, what did you say, Duck?"

Seeing the conflict and sadness written on Tony's face, Ducky spoke gently. "I was asking about your pain levels. But I sense something is bothering you, perhaps not in the physical sense?"

Tony silently cursed his weakness. "Oh, nothing much. Just tired I think."

Ducky stared down reproachfully at Tony. Under his scrutiny, Tony couldn't keep silent.

"I just feel bad that everyone was so upset. I shouldn't have put them through that…Isn't fair to them."

Ducky was at a momentary loss for words. As he studied the face of the younger man, Tony averted his gaze shamefully.

When he finally found his voice, Ducky simply asked, "Do you carry this with you every day? This guilt? This burden?"

Tony blinked and looked away. After a moment, he looked down and nodded.

Ducky was shocked. He shook his head sadly, disbelieving. "How?"

Tony lifted his head, softly meeting Ducky's gaze. A bitter smile hardened the handsome features.

"Easy," he said. "I'm Atlas."


	11. Repercussions

**AN: Thank you so much for the AMAZING reviews! Shout-out to ****xenascully****, ****Gaddkzmp****, ****Meilea2010****, ****Azamiko****, ****Tiffany331****, ****combatcrazy****, ****Cutezipie****, ****sarahsrr****, ****NickTonyK****, ****TinTin11****, ****diana teo****, and ****jgomez921****…Your reviews are awesome! Thank you so much!!!**

**Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Review and tell me if you do. Or if you don't! I welcome all feedback! Please just take a moment to **_**review**_**!**

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"Jethro, I believe we need to talk."

Ducky was standing in the doorway of the waiting room, looking at the faces of Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Abby, and Palmer. They all stood up expectantly, bodies tensed in apprehension.

Abby broke the momentary silence. "What is it? Is Tony ok? Well, I mean- I know he's not, but…relatively speaking, is he ok?" Her bright green eyes searched Ducky's face questioningly.

Ducky sighed. "Though far from 'ok', Anthony is holding his own. You can go visit with him now. I believe he's looking forward to seeing everyone. I just need to speak briefly with Jethro and update him on Tony's condition. We'll be in in a moment."

Pigtails bouncing, Abby hopped toward the hallway, grinning widely. McGee and Palmer followed suit, though in a much more subdued manner. Just as Abby was turning the corner into the hallway, Gibbs called after her.

"Abs!"

Her faced popped around the doorframe.

"Be gentle," Gibbs said in a stern voice. This only made Abby smile wider before she sped off toward Tony's room.

Gibbs turned his attention back to Ducky. "What is it, Duck? Is everything all right?"

A sad sigh answered Gibbs's inquiry.

"I'm afraid our dear Anthony had decided to burden himself once more with unreasonable guilt," Ducky said sorrowfully. "He feels ashamed that he put us all through such distress over his condition. He feels solely responsible for our affliction, and expressed to me his deepest apologies, even seeking my forgiveness for the trouble he caused." Ducky shook his head sadly, recalling the conversation.

"That's ridiculous! Of all the stupid, dumb-ass, dim-witted things DiNozzo has said," Gibbs began. His voice rose in anger, veins pulsing visibly. "This is by far the most idiotic! How could even say –hell, how could he even _think_ that?!"

"Calm down, Jethro. The boy's been through enough already. A confrontation would do nothing but harm. We both know Anthony has always been one to shoulder blame for things, even things that are completely out of his grasp. We've seen it before…Don't tell me you've already forgotten his despondency after Jenny's death?"

"Of course not," Gibbs replied quietly.

"Well, then surely you realize the issue needs to be addressed calmly…but soon, before he turns to…other means."

The two men stood silently for a moment, reflecting upon the 'other means' Tony would seek if they didn't talk to him.

"When should I do it?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky contemplated the question for a moment before answering. "Give him some time to catch up with everyone and let things settle down a bit. However, if we wait too long, we could miss the small window of opportunity we have."

"Agreed," Gibbs said, nodding. After a moment's pause, he asked, "Physically, how's he doing?"

Drawing a deep breath, Ducky replied. "His body will heal in time. His lungs seem to be recovering well. The doctor heard no wheezing or unusual breath sounds when he listened to Tony's breathing. He'll need to keep the oxygen mask for another day or so, then he can be switched to a nasal canula. They've removed the heart monitor, so they obviously feel confident about how his heart sounds. I haven't gotten a look at his hands since their initial stitching, but they should heal without any problems. My best estimation for discharge is the end of the week."

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Duck," he said gently, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. The two walked out of the waiting area together to join the others in Tony's room.

**. . .**

"-and even though you probably don't want to look at the bright side right now, there is one! I mean, what a totally cool story to tell the chicks! The Great Anthony DiNozzo escapes certain death once again!"

McGee shot Abby a sharp look.

"What? I'm just trying to get his spirits up a bit!" she cried indignantly.

Tony grinned from beneath the oxygen mask. "Thanks, Abs," he said in a raspy voice.

"Oh, and you can _really_ sell it if you keep that sexy, husky voice," she said with a wink.

Tony chuckled slightly. "Sorry to disappoint, but the doc says it's only temporary."

"What a shame," Ziva said sarcastically. "You won't be able to _truly_ pull off your Cliff Eastwood impressions."

Tony's eyes narrowed in a glare. "_Clint _Eastwood, Ziva. _Clint_."

Ziva simply rolled her eyes in response. She was silently thanking the deities for the routine banter. Even though things were far from being back to normal, she decided it was best to count the small victories. She was just grateful to have Tony beside her, living and breathing. As Tony diverted his attention to converse with the others, Ziva gazed at his face. The lines of pain and anxiety had lessened slightly since the group had arrived. Occasionally, Ziva noticed his jaw clench. Whether from pain or emotion or both, she couldn't tell. Looking deeply into his eyes, Ziva could see sadness, but it was presently overshadowed by exhaustion.

His body language was defensive, though Ziva presumed it was subconsciously so. Tony had absentmindedly been cradling his wrist and hands throughout their visit. She doubted anyone else had noticed, and knew Tony would not want them to. _When are you going to start letting us in?_ She questioned silently. She received no answer.

Tearing herself from her thoughts, Ziva turned her attention to the current conversation. McGee and Tony seemed locked in some sort of debate.

"No way, Probie. I'm not saying Gran Torino was bad by any means, but his best film? I think not. Unforgiven all the way."

McGee shook his head. "Whatever you say, Tony. But I'm sticking to my guns…Er…No pun intended."

Everyone got a kick out of this, chuckling lightly at the simple humor. They continued the casual conversation for a few more minutes, when Ducky and Gibbs walked in. Neither man said anything, choosing instead to listen to the rest talk. It was reassuring to hear the team chatting and joking as normal.

After a few minutes, Gibbs noticed Tony's eyes slip closed momentarily. Tony quickly opened them again, stifling a yawn.

"Ok, people, I think it's time DiNozzo got some rest. He's had a long day," Gibbs announced.

Everyone sighed and said their goodbyes to Tony, promising to come back the next day. Except for Abby, who remained seated next to Tony.

"Abs…," Gibbs began wearily.

She looked him straight in the eye, staying resolutely in her position. "I'm not leaving, Gibbs. He needs someone with him tonight, and I'm staying."

Tony began to protest. "Abs, I don't need-"

She turned her glare on him. "Not a word from you, Mister. I'm staying and that's that. You should be resting now anyway."

He gave up the short-lived fight, submitting to Abby's will and falling back against the pillow.

Abby looked back at Gibbs decisively, daring him to object.

Gibbs knew he would never win that fight, so instead said quietly, "Ok, but I need to talk to him alone before I go."

Abby sighed and hopped up. "I'll get something from the vending machines." She walked toward the door, then suddenly spun around. "And Gibbs?"

He looked at her inquiringly.

"No headslaps."

Gibbs grinned. "No guarantees."

Abby smiled and shook her head. She turned around, exiting the room. Gibbs turned back to Tony.

"How ya feeling?" he asked.

Tony shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. "Not too bad, considering."

"You had us all scared for a while there."

At this, Tony looked up with sad eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You know how I feel about apologies, DiNozzo. Especially when they're entirely baseless."

"Baseless?" Tony said incredulously. Snorting, he pulled down his oxygen mask. "I think making my boss and colleague dig me out of the ground, wait hours at a hospital, then have to watch me freak out while the doctor rips a tube out of my throat warrants an apology." Then, more quietly, he said, "I should have known Ryker was there. If I'd anticipated things better, none of this would've happened."

Gibbs angrily grabbed the mask and snapped it back on Tony's face. "First of all, DiNozzo, don't take that off again. Second of all, just shut up and listen, because I have something to say."

Tony immediately sobered, taken aback by Gibbs's harsh demeanor.

"You did nothing wrong. _Nothing_," Gibbs said, stressing the last word emphatically. "You were too busy saving the Lieutenant to see Ryker coming, and no one blames you for that. For God's sake you, you nearly died. You _did_ die. And if you think, even for a second that anyone is anything but concerned for you, I'll headslap the thought right out of your mind. Are we clear?"

With a small nod, Tony replied softly, "Yes, Boss."

"Good. I don't want to have this conversation again." Though Tony's answer wouldn't have won him any Oscars, Gibbs was satisfied for the time being. "Try to get some rest, DiNozzo."

He eyed his agent one last time, examining every injury, both on the Agent's body and in the depths of his eyes. With a heavy heart, he turned around, leaving behind a wounded man. He hoped against all hope that the wounds weren't too deep to heal.

**. . .**

"So you want to watch a movie? The Princess Bride is on TNT! I know how much you love that movie. I mean, honestly, who _doesn't_? Westley is such a hunk…" Abby trailed off excitedly. After eyeing her friend, she asked kindly, "Or would you rather sleep?" She was seated on the bed, curled up comfortably next to Tony. She noticed his exhaustion starting to surface.

Stifling another yawn, Tony replied. "I think I'll doze for a while…But first I need to hit the head. Think you could, uh, help me out?" he asked awkwardly. He squirmed uncomfortably in the bed and slipped off his oxygen mask.

Abby giggled. "Never known you to be one to blush, Tony." Standing up, she grabbed his arm, carefully slinging it over her shoulder. Steadily, the two rose and began shuffling toward the small private bathroom. Tony's eyes were glued to his feet as he intensely concentrated on each step.

After what felt like a lifetime, they finally reached the door. Tony quickly grabbed onto the sink for support, releasing Abby's grasp. He gave her a weary smile. "Thanks, Abs. I think I've got it from here."

She smiled and grabbed the door handle. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

As Tony turned away, he heard the click of the closed door. The noise struck something in him. Something fierce and terrifying. His eyes widened and he rapidly spun around. His eyes flicked around the bathroom, absorbing every feature of the area. The most glaringly obvious detail was the lack of windows. With the door shut and no windows, Tony felt as if the tiny room was shrinking by the second. Before he knew it, Tony's vision narrowed and his knees buckled. He heard his harsh breaths over the pounding in his ears. Tears welled in his eyes as the walls began to close in on him, crushing his body, crushing his chest…he couldn't breathe…his heart was pounding so fast…he couldn't breathe…

Tony was too absorbed in his private nightmare to notice the door fly open as a set of high pigtails bounced speedily toward him. It wasn't until Abby firmly grabbed his chin in her hand and looked directly into his eyes that the panic receded.

"Tony! Look at me! Right here, that's it. Calm down. You're ok. You're ok," Abby said. She grabbed him in a secure hug, rubbing circles on his back and rocking their bodies back and forth. "You're ok. Just breathe."

His breathing remained ragged, which worried her. Making sure he was still with her, Abby grabbed Tony's hand and placed in on her own chest. Drawing in deep, steady breaths, she instructed Tony to do the same. "Just like me, Tony. In, out. In, out. There you go. Nice and steady," she coaxed.

After a while, his breathing evened out. Abby lightly brushed the tears off his cheeks and placed her arms around his waist, gently resting her head on his chest. With the wall supporting their backs, the two melted into each other, grateful for the calming contact. They held this position for a few minutes, saying nothing, simply breathing.

"Abs?" Tony said roughly.

"Yeah?" Her wide, expressive eyes gazed up at Tony.

He looked back down at her, gratitude shining through his hazel orbs.

"Could we keep this our little secret?"

She bit her lip and smiled, knowing exactly what to say.

"As you wish."

Grinning at the perfectly timed movie quote, Tony squeezed Abby tightly. They would move back to the bed in a bit. But for now, the sound of each other's deep breathing and the safe, comforting presence was enough.


	12. Horrifying

**AN: Thanks so much for all the kind reviews! They feed my muse, who in turn regurgitates new chapters! (Ok, weird metaphor…But I'm really tired, so don't shoot me please!)**

**Shout-out to my reviewers! **_**xenascully**__**, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**vanishingp2000**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, **__**BnBfanatic**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Mulderette**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**diana teo**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Cutezipie**__**, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**Trypanophobic Little Squirt**__**, **__**combatcrazy**__**, **__**ncismom**__**, **_**and**_**Writing For The Wall**_**…thanks a ton, you guys!**

**And a special thanks to the amazing **_**scousemuz1k**_**for her great feedback and inspiration. Without her insight, this story would never have been possible. Thank you!!!**

* * *

Abby peered concernedly through her heavy lids, as Tony writhed around in the bed in front of her. She could see the distress in his body language, and was suddenly very grateful for the dark veil of protection the night gave the room. She wasn't sure she wanted to see the fear and pain on Tony's face.

After a few minutes of calm, she and Tony had stumbled out of the bathroom, Abby taking most of Tony's weight. His weakened body had been on the verge of collapse, and it was only through sheer willpower that Tony held himself up at all. When they'd finally made it back to the soft comfort of the bed, Tony let out a relieved sigh and watched Abby take the seat next to the bed. Within minutes, Tony had fallen into a deep sleep and Abby had happily followed suit.

She had maintained the restful position until soft whimpering shook her awake. The pathetically quiet sound unnerved her and her eyes shot open. As she gazed at Tony's squirming form, the whimpering turned into a low groan. Tony continued to writhe and shift in the bed, muttering inaudibly.

"Tony," Abby said softly. "Wake up. You're having a nightmare." She gently touched his shoulder, and was taken aback when he recoiled sharply at the contact. His eyes flew open, panic oozing out of the striking hazel. His breathing hitched as he wildly took in his surroundings, sitting upright in the bed.

Abby frowned and placed her hand on Tony's forearm. "You're ok, Tony. It was just a dream."

He seemed to calm at the sound of her voice, resting back into the pillow. After a few seconds, he sleepily slurred, "Thanks, Abs." Abby's lips curled into a smile and she watched over him until he fell asleep once more. When she was sure he was resting peacefully, she allowed herself to lightly rest.

**. . .**

Abby blearily blinked the sleep out of her eyes, stretching her limbs and yawning loudly. When she regained her bearings, she saw a beaming Tony staring at her happily.

"Good morning, Starshine! The Earth says hello!" he said jubilantly.

Abby smirked and peeked at the large clock on the wall. "It's only just barely morning! What are you doing up at 5:30? How long have you been awake? And why did you let me sleep?"

Tony shook his head and laughed quietly at the bombardment of questions. "I've been up for an hour or so. Couldn't sleep. And there was no point in waking you up. You did enough last night. I'd say you've earned some rest time."

Abby scowled. "Doesn't mean I couldn't have kept you company," she said huffily.

"You did! You were right there the whole time. It was kinda peaceful just watching you sleep. Calmed me down a bit."

"Ok, first of all, that sounds beyond creepy. Second of all, why couldn't you sleep? What did you need to calm down for?"

Tony looked down evasively before smiling widely again. The smile, however, didn't fool Abby at all. "It was nothing, Abs. Just this bed. Not the most comfortable. But, hey, who am I to judge how the hospital uses their budget? As long as they keep people alive, I think I'm good with some mild discomfort. Unless it's some form of psychological torture…And they're secretly doing experiments on the patients. Oh my God, it'll be just like Shutter Island…"

Abby raised her eyebrows through this whole speech and when it was over, she said quietly, "Did you have another nightmare?" She gazed sympathetically at him, waiting for an answer.

When one finally came, it was nearly inaudible. "A few," Tony said softly.

Abby's eyes searched Tony sadly, taking notice of the tiredness etched in his features. "Tony, I-"

"Forget about it, Abs. It's not a big deal," he interrupted with a smile. "We should get ready. Make sure we're awake. We'll have to make it look like we both got decent sleep."

Confused, Abby cocked her head questioningly.

"I'd put money on it that the Bossman's gonna be here soon. He gets up freakishly early and, well, let's face it, I _am_ his favorite," Tony said with an exaggerated grin.

"Nah, McGee's my favorite," said Gibbs's voice from the doorway. He strolled in casually. "He gets more work done and he's less accident prone."

Abby smiled, momentarily forgetting her and Tony's original conversation. "Gibbs!" she shouted excitedly. She leapt up and grabbed Gibbs in a big morning hug.

"Morning to you, too, Abs," Gibbs said with a small smile.

As they pulled out of their embrace, a nurse knocked lightly on the door, signaling her entrance into the room. "Good morning," she said. "I'm here to check up on Mr. DiNozzo. I need to dress his wounds and change his oxygen."

Gibbs nodded his acknowledgement and turned to Tony. "We'll get some coffee. Behave, DiNozzo." He gently led Abby out of the room as the nurse began checking Tony over. The two walked into the vending area and Gibbs turned around, looking into Abby's eyes.

"So how's he doing?" he asked quietly.

Abby was thrown off by the suddenness of the inquiry and the gentle concern in Gibbs's voice. She looked into the deep blue of his eyes and couldn't lie. Crumbling into his arms, Abby poured out all the fear and worry she had so expertly been hiding from Tony.

"He's so scared," she said thickly, tears filling her eyes. "He doesn't want anyone to know it, not even me, but he's still terrified. I don't know how to help him! Last night, he went into the bathroom and when I closed the door, he freaked out. He just, like, collapsed onto the ground and started shaking and crying. I've never seen Tony cry before." She sobbed softly into Gibbs's chest. Gibbs held her firmly, whispering into her ear.

"It's ok. It's gonna be ok," he said calmly. Inside, his worry boiled, nearing the surface. _He's not ok. He might never be ok again_, he thought. _I knew I should've stayed last night._

Abby pulled away slightly, wiping her eyes. As if reading Gibbs's mind, she said, "There's nothing you could've done to stop it. I think I did an ok job of calming him down. He wouldn't want you to see him like that anyway. I mean, it's Tony we're talking about. He'd find a way to twist it into a sign of weakness, and you know he hates disappointing you." She sighed and her eyes focused on something Gibbs couldn't see. "It was just so…scary. One minute he's fine, then the next, it's like he's right back in that coffin, gasping and whimpering." She looked up at Gibbs. "How can he get through this? How can _we_ get him through this?"

"I don't know, Abs," Gibbs said gently. "But we're gonna do it somehow." He embraced Abby again before asking, "Is he having nightmares, too? Is that what you two were talking about when I walked in?"

Abby nodded mutely. _Dammit_, Gibbs thought. _It's bad enough that he's having flashbacks while awake. Does he have to be constantly reminded in his sleep, too?_

Gibbs put his hands in Abby's shoulders. "I want you to go home and get some rest."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Gibbs gave her a meaningful look, which silenced her. With one last hug, Abby turned and exited the small room.

As soon as she was out of sight, Gibbs sat down heavily in a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands. He wasn't sure what to make of everything. The flashbacks, the nightmares, the constant fear. He knew it wouldn't be an easy journey back to normal, but this was a little more intense than he thought things would get. Especially this soon. He'd have to talk to Ducky about it later. Sighing, he stood up and headed down the hallway toward Tony's room.

When Gibbs walked in, Tony's doctor, Dr. Burton, was standing at the edge of the bed, talking to Tony.

"We're switching you to the nasal canula now, Mr. DiNozzo. If you experience any difficulty or discomfort breathing, just hit the call button and a nurse will come in to assist you. How is the rest of your pain? Are you still getting headaches?"

Tony opened his mouth to answer when Gibbs cleared his throat, announcing his scrutinizing presence. Knowing better than to lie, Tony defeatedly muttered, "Yeah, sometimes."

The doctor made a note on his clipboard. "Are they migraines or just residual aches?"

Another glare from Gibbs. "Somewhere in between."

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how is the pain in your hands?" the doctor asked, eyeing the chart in front of him.

"Between 2 and 3," Tony replied.

"DiNozzo…," Gibbs growled.

Tony sighed. "Between 5 and 6."

"Ok," Dr. Burton said, making a few final markings on the chart. "The headaches should recede more and more each day. They're just the after-effects of your concussion. If they increase in frequency or severity, be sure to inform us. As for your hands, they'll take a bit longer to heal. Some of your lacerations were considerably deep. You may need some physical therapy. I doubt it, but it's a possibility. To palliate the pain, I can up the dosage of your painkiller-"

"No," Tony cut in sharply. "I don't want any more painkillers."

"But, Mr. DiNozzo-" the doctor said.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Dr. Burton. I'm fine, really. If the pain becomes unmanageable, I'll up my meds. Right now, I can handle it."

The doctor sighed. "Well, I believe that's all for now. Do you have any questions?"

Tony shook his head and Dr. Burton left the room. Turning to Gibbs, Tony yawned and asked, "What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Figured I could spare a few minutes to check up on you. Make sure you're staying outta trouble. It would be just like you to find a way to get hurt in a hospital."

Tony rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly. "Wouldn't be the first time," he muttered.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, but said nothing more.

"So," he began slowly. "Abby tells me you've been having some nightmares. How bad?"

Tony hesitated, internally debating about whether or not to open up. Figuring the battle was already lost, he replied simply, "Could be worse."

"What're they like?" Gibbs probed, unsatisfied with the evasive answer.

Tony looked down at his bandaged hands, gently touching his fingers to the soft material. "It's like I'm just reliving it, over and over. Every time, I know what's happening to me, but I can't get out. I fight so hard, but…I just can't escape. Everything's exactly the same. It's dark, tight, hopeless…I pound my hands and scream, but nothing happens. After awhile, it starts getting hard to breathe, and soon after that, I can't breathe at all. It's nothing new. Just a constant reiteration," he said aloofly. The words were said with no emotion. It was just as if he was giving a statement for a case. It was short. It was simple. It was horrifying.

Tony maintained the thoughtful position for a few seconds before turning to look into his boss's searching eyes. "No worries, Boss. I'm sure they'll go away." He smiled half-heartedly, trying to mask the pain of memory hidden in the depths of his eyes.

Knowing that it was no time to push the agent, Gibbs nodded. "Well, unlike you, the rest of us have work to do. Rest up. An empty desk is no use to us, so don't take too long getting better. Got that, DiNozzo?"

A grin lit up Tony's tired features. "Got it, Boss."

Gibbs swiftly exited the room, knowing that the remainder of the day was going to elapse very slowly, to his loathing. Focusing on work was going to be one hell of a task.


	13. Damp

**AN1: This chapter turned into a monster, so I split it up into 2 chapters. The next will be up in a few days tops.**

**AN2: Thanks to **_**xenascully**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**BnBfanatic**__**, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**Cutezipie**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Trypanophobic Little Squirt**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**diana teo**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, **__**vanishingp2000**__**, reloader, **__**ncismom**__**, **__**Tiffany331**_**, and **_**combatcrazy**_**for awesome reviews! Keep them coming please!**

**AN3: Did any of you see that TV Guide Cover? Totally smokin'! And in the interview with our NCIS men, they talked a little about Fan Fiction! Awesome! **

* * *

Tony sat in his room, frustration accumulating within him. _'Our little secret'_, he recalled. _Apparently not._

He ran his bandaged hands through his hair as thoughts raced around in his mind. _Why? Why would she do this? I asked her not to tell, yet the first thing Abby does is spill her guts. I just don't get it. Did I piss her off somehow? Or is she just disgusted with me? She knows how I feel about showing weakness. She knows I didn't want Gibbs or anyone to know. Oh God! Does everyone know? They must all think I'm so pathetic. As if I don't feel enough of that myself._

He sighed and lay back in the bed, closing his eyes and praying to God his sleep would be absent of more nightmares.

**. . .**

"How is Tony?" a voice asked anxiously as Gibbs entered the bullpen. He looked to Ziva, who was eyeing him expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"He'll be fine," Gibbs replied gruffly, his mind screaming the opposite.

Ziva didn't seem all too convinced. Her eyes narrowed as she examined her boss. He seemed a little worn out and she had no doubt he'd spent the night thinking about Tony. Who hadn't? Ziva inwardly shivered, thinking back to her night.

_After leaving the hospital (albeit reluctantly), she walked silently to her car, the impact of the day's events hitting her like a ton of sticks…wait no, bricks. A ton of bricks._

_As soon as she pulled out of the parking lot and got on the highway, she allowed the suppressed tears to fall. _

_She imagined how strange she must have appeared, driving wildly down the freeway and sobbing hysterically. At the time, though, she couldn't have cared less. Thinking of the trauma she went through sent shivers down her spine. The roughness of the shovel as she dug, dug, dug…As the dirt slowly receded from the area in front of her, she mentally shut herself off. Her mind had been blank as she dug through the many feet of dirt to get to her friend. She barely registered the tears in her eyes until the dull thud snapped her out of the comatose state._

_And when they had laid Tony's body on the ground, pale, motionless, lifeless… her heart had momentarily stopped and it did not regain its cadence until Tony's eyes opened. Even then, the relief was short-lived. Tony's violent return to consciousness had left Ziva frozen, almost statuesque. Her heart hurt as she gazed upon his fear-filled face. The shock had begun to wear off by the time Tony was able to be visited, and after a repeat of his first awakening, Ziva was finally able to relax. She inwardly swelled with the realization that she calmed him down. For some reason, the fact comforted her. Knowing she could take care of him and ease his discomfort…it felt nice._

_Yet, out of this entire terrifying experience, it was not her own emotions that scared Ziva the most. It was the unconcealed, completely unrestrained fear exhibited by Tony that frightened her most. When she imagined his emotional state throughout the ordeal, it made the tears fall faster and harder. How anyone could survive what Tony had was inconceivable. And for him to still be...Tony…seemed impossible._

_So she allowed the tears to fall. Crawling into her bed, she let the truth of what had occurred and the possibilities of what could happen swallow her whole. Slipping into slumber, the moisture continued flowing. And when she awoke the next morning, her pillow was still damp._

Ziva shook herself out of the unpleasant recollection and hesitantly voiced part of her thought process. "I am sorry, Gibbs. I just…I am worried about him. How can he ever be the same? It does not seem possible…"

Gibbs replied sharply. "Fortunately for us, DiNozzo's never cared much for impossibilities." Then, more softly, he said, "I told you, you can't give up on him. Our Tony is still there. Just a little shaken up is all."

Ziva smiled weakly.

As this conversation occurred, Gibbs noticed McGee staring downcastedly at his lap. His expression was troubled as he battled with inner guilt. _Tony gets the plague, comes back sick, and saves us from an explosion, nearly getting blown up himself. I catch a bug, can't even interview a suspect, and Tony almost dies. What the hell is wrong with me? What kind of agent am I?_

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted, after repeating the name twice. McGee's head shot up in Gibbs's direction, a stunned look on his face. "Let's go," Gibbs said, walking to the elevator. With a defeated sigh, McGee stood up. He shuffled his feet all the way to the elevator doors, staring at the ground intently as he stepped inside.

He looked up as Gibbs hit the switch and the elevator halted, and could feel Gibbs's eyes piercing his soul. Tony was the only one immune –or at least somewhat immune- to Gibbs's examining glare. It was unnerving, the way Gibbs could pry information from people at will, using nothing but his perceptive blue eyes. Perhaps it should be more disconcerting that Tony was expert enough to evade this deathly gaze, keeping a tight lock on his inner thoughts and emotions. McGee put the thought to the back of his mind as Gibbs began to speak.

"We don't have time for irrational guilt," he said forcefully. His firm gaze kept steady on McGee's face. "We've got enough of that from DiNozzo. Nothing that happened was your fault, and thinking that it was isn't gonna help anything. Ya got that?"

McGee shook his head, confused. "But why would Tony feel guilty? It's not his fault I-"

"Enough. Did you not hear me the first time?" Gibbs interrupted. "Guilt and apologies are not what's needed right now. You don't need that, I don't need that, and DiNozzo sure as hell doesn't need that. Ya got me, McGee?"

McGee nodded solemnly, knowing Gibbs had a valid point. They all had enough to deal with without adding his guilt into the mix. With a swift sting to the back of his head, McGee walked off the elevator and sat down at his desk. Ziva looked up curiously, but didn't say anything.

After fifteen minutes or so, Gibbs strolled back into the bullpen. Sitting at his desk, he said, "The Director approved leave for the day, so I want both of you get some rest and visit DiNozzo.

McGee and Ziva looked up, momentarily stunned. It was McGee who spoke first. There was a note of suspicion in his voice and he cautiously questioned, "You're…giving us the day off?"

"Did I stutter, McGee? Now get going before I change my mind."

Ziva gave Gibbs a quick smile, which was rewarded by a small nod. Grabbing her coat, she joined McGee at the elevator doors. Both smiled nervously in anticipation as they stepped in. The last thing Gibbs saw before the doors closed was McGee, fidgeting nervously with the keys. As McGee and Ziva disappeared behind the thick closing metal, Gibbs took a deep breath, hoping the visit would help his senior agent.

**. . .**

The room was quiet as Ziva and McGee slipped inside. Tony's eyes were closed and his breaths were deep and steady. The natural rise and fall of his chest was a sight Ziva would never again take for granted. Relief flooded her system at the peaceful state Tony appeared to be in.

Still fiddling nervously with the keys in his pocket, McGee released a breath at the sight of Tony. Though he still looked exhausted and battered, he seemed to be getting some uninterrupted rest, which would only do him good. Glancing at Ziva, McGee curiously examined his partner's face. The small upturn of her lips told him she was just as relieved as he was. But there was something else, hidden in her eyes. Something he couldn't quite place. Ziva's whole face seemed to soften as she gazed at the figure on the bed. A sort of ethereal calmness emanated from the woman, her concerned eyes conveying something so much stronger. McGee's brow furrowed and his wrung his hands as he tried to figure out why the look in Ziva's eyes was so familiar. _Where have I seen that look before?_

"McGoo, calm down. I could hear you fidgeting from the world of unconsciousness," a voice said from the bed.

McGee refocused his attention on Tony, who was smiling tiredly at him. "Sorry I woke you," McGee said. "I was just contemplating what I was going to draw on your face. Guess that plan's out the window."

Tony smiled, then his face became serious. "So, I never really got around to asking you…How're you feeling?" he asked seriously.

McGee was taken aback by the irony of the question. He looked to Ziva to make sure he'd heard correctly. She shrugged.

"I'm, um, fine. Why do you ask?"

Tony rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious question in the world. "Well, the last time I saw you, other than the Eastwood debate, you were puking your guts out and insisted on showing everyone the contents of your nasal passages. You look better, but still a little Cabin Fever-ish. Minus the decaying flesh, of course. So…How are you?"

Still slightly perplexed, but deciding it was just Tony being Tony, McGee answered. "I'm fine now. Like I said, just a temporary bug. No biggie. I just have a bit of a runny nose left over." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "How are you feeling?"

Tony shrugged and grinned. "Could be worse. I'll be fine. So did Gibbs give you two the day off or did you run away? 'Cause if it's the latter, I'm not really equipped to aid and abet. I mean, if worse comes to worse, you could always hide in that nifty little linen closet." The grin faded slightly from his face as he thought of the small closet. The space was so enclosed…

"No need to worry about that," McGee interjected. He noticed the way Tony's face had paled at the mention of the closet. He also hadn't missed the smooth deflection of the question. "Vance granted a day's leave. That means you can't get too used to us, Tony. We won't be babysitting you all week. We only have leave for a day."

Tony rolled his eyes theatrically. "I know, McTilda! I get it. Day. D-a-i-y-e!"

Now it was McGee's turn to roll his eyes. "How long have they been re-running Zoolander on TBS?"

"All day, McProbie. And I'll never get sick of it."

Ziva piped in. "Is that the insufferable film you forced me to watch? The one with the two moronic actors?"

Tony sighed exasperatedly. "They were _models_, Ziva. And that movie is far from insufferable. It's comic genius. An instant classic," he declared. "That film made me truly realize that there's more to life than being 'really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking'." He smiled contentedly.

"Ok, you can go all day with quotes, so I'm gonna stop you right now," McGee said resolutely. A moment's silence followed, in which McGee and Ziva stared at their friend, examining the tubes and wires still attached to him. Feeling their eyes on him, Tony squirmed self-consciously. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to stare?" he joked half-heartedly. McGee looked down and Ziva frowned. Not the response he was looking for.

"Tony," Ziva said softly. "How are you _really_ feeling?"

"I told you, I'm _fine_," he replied heatedly.

Frustration flashed through Ziva's features as she raised her voice. "You are not _fine_, Tony. You cannot possibly be _fine_. When are you going to learn to stop being so stubborn and embrace your condition? We are not children, Tony, and we do not need you to lie to us every time we try to help. Maybe, just once, you could try being honest with the people who care about you, instead of shutting them out and pushing them away!" By the time her fervent lecture was finished, Ziva was standing, fists clenched angrily.

McGee looked from Ziva to Tony, and back to Ziva. He watched their eyes lock in an intense gaze, neither breaking the contact.

"Um, I'm gonna get some…uh, coffee," he said awkwardly. He doubted either heard him as he silently exited the room.

**. . .**

"Why are you being like this?" Tony asked. His voice was steady, but the weariness in it could be easily detected.

"I am not trying to hurt your feelings. I just…don't want to see you do what you did after Jenny."

Tony's jaw dropped. "What does Jenny have to do with any of this?"

"Do not insult my intelligence, Tony. We both know how you dealt with that situation. Or rather, how you _didn't_ deal with it. I do not want the same thing to happen simply because you're hiding behind a mask of denial. By pushing us- by pushing _me _away, it only hurts both of us."

Tony sighed and looked down. After a few moments, he said quietly. "I know, Ziva…I'm sorry. I get that everything was all upsetting and traumatic. I just…don't do well with playing the victim…if that makes any sense."

Ziva smiled kindly and scooted close to Tony on the bed, taking his hand in hers. "Trust me. I know exactly what you are feeling. But I do not want you to make the same mistake I did and push the feelings to the back of your mind. You need to talk to someone. And if you feel comfortable with it, that person can be me."

Releasing a long breathe, Tony said, "Looks like I'm not gonna have much of a choice about talking anyway. The doctor told me this morning that I have to talk to some psychologist or psychiatrist or something. What's the difference, by the way? Never mind. Anyway, this Dr. Summers is coming in later today apparently. So I guess I'm covered on the whole talking thing." He looked down at his hands.

Gently, Ziva gave Tony a small smile and said, "We both know that it is not the same as talking to a friend."

Tony searched Ziva's face sadly. "But why? Why would you want to hear me blabber on about my problems? Seems too 'Analyze This' if you ask me."

"I do not know of that film, but what I do know is…I care about you, Tony. And when I thought you had…when I thought you were…" Ziva stuttered, trying to find a way to express her thoughts. "I do not like seeing you hurt. And when I saw you so vulnerable…it scared me." Her voice cracked and tears began forming in her eyes.

Tony was shocked by the admission. Instinctively, he reached his arms around her and pulled her close. He allowed her tears to silently stain his hospital gown. The two held the intimate position for a few minutes. In those moments of silence, both their walls crumbled, exposing their true emotions. Feelings flowed from one to the other, bodies and souls connected by the strong embrace. Tears from each combined in a pool of openness and trust, washing each of them clean of all guilt and fear and veiled adoration. Without speaking a word, the two revealed all their inner pain and secrets, reveling in the sweet release. The damp, salty wetness on Tony's chest represented two people's sheer and absolute faith in one another. As did the moisture flowing into Ziva's long, dark hair.

Slowly and reluctantly, Ziva pulled away. She didn't want to end the beautiful moment…in fact, she could've stayed all day…but knew better.

Tony sighed as the contact was broken. Ziva leaned forward, her face mere inches from Tony's.

"I must get back to McGee," she whispered. She gently pressed her lips to Tony's cheek before saying softly, "Please get some rest."

Slightly stunned, Tony nodded mutely and watched as the exotic beauty glided out the door. Sighing, he settled into the bed and closed his eyes, hoping to get some rest before his talk with the psychologist.


	14. Relief and Happiness

**AN: Here's the next chapter! It may seem like things are winding down, but trust me, looks can be deceiving. Glad there's still some interest in this story. If you haven't reviewed yet, give it a shot! It's not as hard as it seems!**

**Shout-outs: **_**xenascully**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**Cutezipie**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**diana teo**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, Anne, **__**cheekymice**__**, **_**and **_**Mulderette**__**.**_

**Thanks so much for the reviews! I love you all!**

* * *

"I want you to know that you are not permitted to say anything you're not comfortable with, Mr. DiNozzo. This session is purely for your benefit. It's simply my job to evaluate your mental state, and from what I see, you're perfectly fit for everyday living. So I want to treat this session as a beneficial means of helping you with the difficult emotions you must be feeling after such an ordeal," Dr. Callie Summers said. She was sitting in the chair at Tony's bedside. Tony's bed was raised, propping him up so he could talk to the psychologist.

"There's not much to say, really," Tony began. "I assume you've already been told about the nightmares and panic attacks. You know as much as I do."

"The nightmares are perfectly explainable. And, in my opinion, to be expected. The panic attacks, while slightly less expected, are still equally explainable. Would you like to hear what I think?"

Tony nodded. "Yes, please," he said in a mock-cute voice.

"I believe you have a case of trauma-induced claustrophobia. You see, after what you've gone through, your subconscious mind is working from the belief that being in a small space means being in imminent danger. And in its attempt to prevent you from being in such danger, it's producing feelings of fear, anxiety and panic. Because of your adverse feelings toward confined spaces, your body has created a conditional response to dealing with the situation when it arises. Simply put, your brain is making you afraid of small spaces in order to protect you from further trauma similar to what you've already experienced."

After a few seconds to wrap his mind around the diagnosis, Tony nodded slightly. "Yeah, that makes sense. So is it…fixable?"

"It's a common misconception that claustrophobia is untreatable. In fact, there are treatments for it, especially in cases like yours. One such treatment is called transformational hypnotherapy. This is a form of hypnosis in which we can access your subconscious. By delving into your mind, we can use the power of suggestion to convince your mind that small spaces do not always mean danger. Your suggestions and intentions for positive change when delivered at this level can create dramatic shift in the way you think, feel and behave. It's my hope that with this treatment, your mind can be re-wired in a way which won't affect your perception, just your body's reaction."

Tony's mouth fell open and he stared at Dr. Summers, trying desperately to grasp what he was being told. "You want to…hypnotize me?"

"In a sense, yes. But hypnosis is nothing like it's portrayed in the movies. You are still awake and fully in control of all that happens. All hypnosis is ultimately "self-hypnosis"—you choose to enter it or leave it, you cannot be made to or forced to relax. You are always in control while in this state. In fact, your discernment is actually heightened. You can follow the suggestions that are given, change them, or ignore them. You can open your eyes at any time and find yourself fully awake, relaxed and fully conscious. Your mind will never follow suggestions that you do not think are acceptable. You cannot be made to override your own values or accepted patterns of behavior. Again, the ball will be in your court the entire time. We will simply be trying to convince your subconscious that your phobia is irrational. In doing so, it will hopefully end the panic attacks."

"Ok…so when do we do this?" Tony asked slowly.

"Whenever you're ready. We can even do it right now if you'd like to," Dr. Summers replied sweetly.

After a moment's contemplation, Tony nodded. "Yeah, let's just get this over with. I wanna get out of this damn hospital."

Dr. Summers chuckled. "I'm sure you would. And the more quickly we take care of the emotional injuries, the more energy your body will have to focus on healing your physical injuries."

"Thank God," Tony said. He squirmed apprehensively. "So…are you just gonna, like, count backwards or something?"

"Is that what you'd like us to do? As I said, everything is completely your decision."

Tony continued to squirm. "Uh…sure."

"Ok, I'm going to ask you to relax your body and mind. Breathe deeply. Feel the calmness wash over your body, seep into your being, silence all agitation present. I'm going to count from 10 to 1.

"10."

_Ok, I need to stop fidgeting. I'm not McGee._

"9."

_That's a little better. Not as anxious now…_

"8."

_This is kinda nice…_

"7."

_Wow, I haven't felt this relaxed in months. Years, even._

"6."

_I feel like I'm floating…So relaxed…_

"5."

_I could definitely get used to this._

"4."

_Wow, this is crazy. It's like I'm asleep and awake at the same time._

"3."

_I hope this helps. I want this to help._

"2."

_I'm ready to be me again. If spilling my guts makes that happen, so be it._

"1."

_Here we go._

"How do you feel, Mr. DiNozzo?" Dr. Summers asked calmly.

"Tony," he replied slowly. "Call me, Tony. I feel fine. Great, actually. The same as usual, just…lighter…less tense."

"Good," the doctor said with a smile. "That means you're in the state we need you in. I want to go directly to the source, so this can be resolved as easily as possible. Tell me, Tony, why do you dislike small spaces?"

Tony's brow furrowed and his eyes clouded with recollection. "It makes me remember…And sometimes when I start to remember, I can't stop. It's only been a day and I already feel ready to give up. It's so scary, when I get stuck in the memory. It's like I'm…trapped. In my own head. I can't- I can't get out."

"What goes through your mind when you get stuck in one of these moments? What do you think of that scares you? Or who?"

Tony paused, briefly considering the question. "Everyone. Well, not everyone. Just the people I know. My friends, my family. Dying doesn't scare me. I've come close to it enough to be ready at all times. It's leaving everyone behind…They would be so sad, so lost, and it'd be my fault. I'd take a bullet for any of them in a heartbeat, but I couldn't bear to watch them afterward. I'm ok with leaving the world. I'm just not ok with leaving them."

Dr. Summers nodded, and gently said, "Go on. Tell me more about what it felt like during your ordeal."

"Being shot, being stabbed, hell, even drowning…they're all pretty quick. Not much time to think. You spend your last moments trying to stay alive, but you're dead before you can really mull things over. Being down there, in that coffin, fighting to breathe…it was like a sick joke. I couldn't get out…yet I wasn't incapacitated either. I was just there, with nothing to do but think. At first I tried to think of a means of escape. Then I realized there was none. So all I could do was think…about what I could have done differently, about what I did to deserve it…about what I was leaving behind. It wasn't just physical. It was mental torture."

Jotting down a few notes, Dr. Summers look up at Tony, examining his facial expressions and body language.

"I-I think I'm done for now," he said hesitantly. "Can you, like, snap your fingers or something?"

"No need, Tony. Just blink a few times. You can take yourself out of the hypnosis at any time."

After some hard blinks, Tony's eyes focused on Dr. Summers's face. "Did it do anything?" he asked.

"We won't know this soon. I think we made some significant progress, and it's good to see that you're receptive to being open with me. With cases like yours, I like to have at least 4-6 sessions. Depending on your progression, we may have more or perhaps less. It's all up to you. As I said, you have the control. As of now, I'll clear you for light duty, no field work yet."

A look of outrage appeared on Tony's face. But before he could protest, Dr. Summers held her hand up.

"This isn't to punish you. This is for your safety and the safety of your co-workers. If you were to have an attack at an inopportune moment, people's lives could be at risk. Something neither you nor I take lightly."

Tony nodded resignedly. "Yeah, you're right. So when are we meeting again?"

"I'd say a visit per week is suitable. You can contact me at this number." She placed a card on the small table beside Tony's bed. "From what Dr. Burton has told me, you'll be back home and resting by then. We can schedule at a later date, whenever you're ready." She held out her hand and Tony shook it, smiling at the subtle show of support. "It was very nice meeting you, Tony. I look forward to our time together." She flashed a caring smile before exiting the room.

Tony closed his eyes, thinking about the session. Oddly enough, he did feel better. Still not one-hundred percent, but it felt as if a small portion of the load had been taken off his shoulders. However, despite this newfound relief, a few emotions and unresolved issues were lingering in his mind.

**. . .**

"Tony!" Abby cried cheerfully as she entered the room. "I have a surprise for- whoa, what's wrong?"

Abby halted mid-step, overcome by the negative energy in the room. Tony was lying in the bed, staring at his hands. He looked up as Abby entered, eyes blazing as she spoke.

"I know you told Gibbs about my "episode" or whatever it was. And the nightmares."

The words hung bitterly in the air until Abby spoke again, quietly.

"How did you-" she began. Tony quickly cut her off.

"He asked me about the nightmares. And I could tell he knew about the other thing. The way he was looking at me. As if he didn't know what to say, how to act. It also helped my theory when the doctors were asking me about it. He must've told them. Dammit, Abs, I asked you to keep it a secret!"

Tears welled up in Abby's striking green eyes. "I know. I know. I just couldn't! It was so horrible. And I thought it might be medically important. I don't know…Gibbs was just as worried as the rest of us. He had a right to know. What if it happens at work or something? It could be dangerous! I'm so sorry, Tony. I know I shouldn't have. I just panicked and started talking and couldn't stop."

Tony just shook his head, eyes averting her apologetic gaze.

"I just don't understand how you could do this! I trusted you…I've always trusted you, Abs. You know how I feel about these things. It's bad enough that I look like some rookie freaking cop in front of you. Now I have Gibbs to think about. Don't you think I hate that you saw me like that? Don't you think I hate that I was in that state at all? You shouldn't have to babysit me and comfort me like I'm an infant! I should be fine! I should be ok, recovered, over it. I'm supposed to be just like I was before any of this shit happened. I survived. It's like my brain doesn't get that. It's like it thinks I'm still suffocating in that tiny little coffin. I can't close my eyes without thinking about it…without being there all over again. It was bad enough you saw me pathetic and weak as a damn insect. Now all Gibbs will see when he looks at me is some sad little shell, who can't even protect himself from his own mind."

Tony took a deep breath and expelled it, closing his eyes against the tears threatening to fall. After a few seconds, he said in a small, quiet voice, "Part of me wishes I'd just died in that damn coffin. Would've made things easier for everyone."

Abby, who had kept silent throughout the outburst, wiped the tears on her face and her lips formed a tight line. Anger flashed in her eyes and she said vehemently, "If I ever hear you say anything like that again, Anthony DiNozzo, I swear to God I'll slap you so hard, your grandchildren will feel it."

His eyes gazed up at her, and the sadness in their depths brought Abby's tears once more to the surface. She wrapped her arms around Tony as best she could, burying her head in the fabric of his gown, drowning his chest in tears. He gently wrapped his arms around her trembling form, squeezing firmly and rubbing soft circles on her back. It was the second time that day he had held a woman this close. Yet, with Abby, the feeling was drastically different. She was his sister, his best friend. He held her protectively and breathed in deeply, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"I know, Abs. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just hate feeling so…helpless. I know you were only trying to help. I'm sorry I yelled at you. You've been stressed enough without my screaming. I understand and I shouldn't have been upset. I'm sorry, Abs. Forgive me?"

Abby lifted her tearstained face to his. "Not necessary," she said.

"So…what was that surprise you were talking about?" he asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness in the air.

Abby's face immediately brightened. She stood up, reaching into the denim pocket of her dark skirt. With a flourish, she pulled out two small stubs of paper, holding them up next to her excited face.

"What are those?" Tony asked curiously.

"These," Abby said emphatically, "Are two tickets to the annual live, interactive viewing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show!" Her smile could rival Doris Day's as she watched Tony's face turn from curious to ecstatic. "You didn't, Abs! This is…this is amazing," he said breathlessly. The personal gesture brought a quiver to his voice.

Abby grinned. "So this means you have one month to get totally better, ok? I'm not gonna be dragging along a half-conscious Rocky. It's not how I roll," she said with a wink.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so I'm going as Rocky?"

Abby smirked slyly. "Only if you think you can pull off the gold spandex."

"A feat none too difficult for the spectacular Anthony DiNozzo," Tony replied. "So who will you be going as?"

"Frank-N-Furter," she said. "It's gonna be awesome. I'm doing this ironic woman-playing-a-man-playing-a-woman thing. I have the gloves and everything!"

"Can't wait."

As the two continued talking excitedly, Dr. Burton entered the room. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," Tony replied. "Is something wrong?"

"Quite the contrary. I wanted to let you know that if there are no complications, you can be discharged tomorrow afternoon."

Abby and Tony exchanged eager smiles. "That's great news, Doc. Thanks," Tony said happily.

With a small nod, Dr. Burton walked out again.

Abby looked down at her watch. "I should probably get going. They're playing Casablanca on ShowTime tonight, and I have to catch up on some z's." She ruffled his hair. "See ya later, Rocky."

"Try to stay out of trouble, Frank," Tony said with a wink. Abby strode out of the room, leaving behind a relieved and happy Tony.

For the first time in hours, Tony's body and mind relaxed in unison, calmness emanating from his features. For the first time in hours, Tony could sleep peacefully.


	15. Flames

**AN: Thanks for the awesome reviews!!! Please, please, please keep them coming!**

**Shout-outs: **_**xenascully**__**, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**Cutezipie**__**, **__**cheekymice**__**, **__**Trypanophobic Little Squirt**__**, **__**Mulderette**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**vanishingp2000**__**, twomoms, diana teo, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, **__**ncismom**__**, **_**and **_**combatcrazy**_

* * *

Tony opened his eyes blearily. Gibbs was seated beside his bed, staring at him. "About time you woke up," he stated.

Through the fog of sleep still lingering in his mind, Tony propped himself up on his elbows. "What time is it?"

"About 0600," Gibbs replied. "Just swinging by before work. Gotta make sure you aren't trying to do something stupid."

"Aw, come on, Boss. Be fair. Why would I do something stupid and jeopardize my chance to go home today?"

This was news to Gibbs. He raised his eyebrows. "When were you planning on telling me about getting discharged?"

Tony laughed nervously. "It wasn't important. You would've found out when I came back to work anyway."

"Yeah, that doesn't quite explain how you were gonna get home, DiNozzo." He waited for a response, and when none came, he spoke again. "Well? How were you planning on getting home without a ride?"

Tony's smile faltered as he met Gibbs's gaze. Finally he squeaked out, "Cab?"

The word was supposed to sound self-assured and explanatory, but came out as nervous question. _Damn, I sounded worse than McGee on his first day of work. That's embarrassing. _A swift yet gentle slap to the back of the head helped him re-focus.

"I'm driving you home. What time do you get released?"

"I think Dr. Burton said 2-ish."

Gibbs glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded. Tony broke the silence.

"So what have you guys been working on?"

Gibbs sighed. "Vance put us on a new case. Another Marine-gone-crazy. He's left a bunch of threatening notes at his old apartment building. He used to live there with his girlfriend, but when she broke up with him, he snapped. All the notes say he's gonna set off a bomb and blow the whole building, but the Bomb Squad swept every floor and the surrounding area, so looks like he's bluffing."

Tony nodded, intrigued. "Where is this guy?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Haven't found him. He may be a crazy son of a bitch, but he's also pretty damn elusive."

"Let's hope he's bluffing," Tony said. Gibbs nodded, before standing up. "I'll be back at 2 to pick you up. You'd better not keep me waiting."

Tony grinned as Gibbs exited the room. Relief and excitement flooded his system. _Finally getting out of here_, he thought to himself. Just as he settled back into the bed, a nurse walked in.

"Hello again," she said cheerily. "I just need to change your dressings for the day. We'll do it again before you leave, so I'll just put on a thin bandage for now."

Tony smiled flirtatiously, holding out his hands. He hated this part of the routine, but having a cute nurse sure did ease the discomfort.

As she gently peeled away the old bandage, Tony flinched. The air stung the still-fresh wounds. When all the wrappings were taken off, Tony peeked at the damage. He'd looked at it a few times over the course of his stay at the hospital, but never got used to it. The ugly red gashes in the skin deformed the appendages, giving them a distinct Frankenstein look. As his eyes followed the lines of stitching, he couldn't help but feel as if he was examining someone else's hands. The irritated tissue and distorted members were too rough, too repulsive, to belong to him. It couldn't possibly be his hands he was staring at. His hands were smooth and soft, appealing to eye and flesh. Regularly moisturized, his hands would never have the decayed, swollen appearance of the hideous limbs in front of him. They couldn't be his. They weren't.

If they were, that might mean he'd have to face the cause of the damage. And that wasn't something he wanted to think about at that moment.

Tony was pulled from his thoughts as the slight sting of the new bandage made him wince.

"Just about done," the nurse said kindly. After a few moments, the new, clean bandages were wrapped securely around Tony's hands. "That feel ok?" Tony nodded and smiled. He nurse threw away the old bandages and left the room.

Tony was just settling into a comfortable position as he heard a knock at the open door. He looked up.

After a brief moment of shock, Tony smiled. "Hey there. How are you two feeling?" he asked.

His eyes closely examined the forms of Kevin Willis and Suzanne Ryker. The latter was in a wheelchair, looking much better than she had when Tony had last seen her. Willis brought the chair to a stop, coming around the side to stand next to the Lieutenant. His tired eyes spoke of sleep deprivation at his lover's bedside. The soft brown gazed down at the agent, both worry and gratitude shining through.

"We're fine. Suzie's being kept here another night, just to make sure everything's ok. The doctors say there was no permanent damage, thank God," Willis said. Tony smiled encouragingly. "How are _you_?"

Tony shrugged. "I've been worse," he said with a smile.

Willis looked skeptical, but didn't push the matter. "We just wanted to stop by and see how you were. We'll be hanging around for a week or so, but as soon as Suzie feels well enough, we're hopping a flight to Paris. With both our funds pooled, we have enough money to fly around the world. It'll be like the honeymoon we always wanted but could never even think of."

Tony smiled at the plans, though his gaze was fixed on Suzanne, who had yet to say a word. She seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but holding back. Her weary eyes met Tony's. After a few silent seconds, she spoke quietly. Extending her hand, she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent DiNozzo. Thank you for everything." The words were sincere and heartfelt.

"No need to thank me, Lieutenant. Just doing my job."

"Please, call me Suzanne. Kevin told me that it was you that put everything together to solve the case. And he told me…he told me what happened." She dropped her eyes as moisture formed in them. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Her hands trembled as she thought of the horror the situation had brought. For her, for her lover, for the man in front of her… Silent sobs wracked her body and she turned away to hide her face. Willis squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

"I think we should go back to the room now," Willis said quietly. He spun the wheelchair around, and then came back to Tony. He looked him deep in the eyes. Tony's soul felt naked at the intense gaze.

With the utmost sincerity and gratitude, Willis said, "Thank you, Agent DiNozzo." He turned and pushed the wheelchair out the door. Tony said a silent prayer for the couple, hoping they'd be able to move on from the terrible ordeal…and that somehow he could, too.

**. . .**

"I'm good to go, Boss," Tony said excitedly. He had changes into his street clothes, and with the new attire, his confidence had come back full throttle. Beside him was a small duffel bag, which held some clothes, grooming materials, extra medical supplies from the doctors, etc. He was seated on the edge of the bed, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Cool it, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped. "The nurse still has to redress your hands."

Tony slumped noticeably and sighed. Not a moment later, the young, pretty nurse entered the room. She was carrying some clean wrappings and other supplies.

"Watch closely, Agent DiNozzo. After this, you'll have to dress these wounds yourself, or preferably with help." As she began removing the dirtied fabric from Tony's hands, Gibbs suppressed a gasp. The skin on the hands was mangled and irritated. Red, angry lines covered the area, the vibrant color only interrupted by the rough, black stitches. He saw Tony wince as the air in the room came into contact with the abrasions.

Both men listened intently to the nurse's instructions, silently watching her motions. They each stored the information away for later use. After firmly securing the last bandage, the nurse stood and put her hands on her hips.

"We've enjoyed your company, Agent DiNozzo," she said with a wink. "But I hope never to see you again…at least in this capacity."

Tony grinned and Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Ready?" he asked Tony. With an ecstatic nod, Tony stood and grabbed his bag. The doctor had already been in to give them his explicit instructions.

"_At least two days rest before going back to work. Change your bandages every night and every morning until next week, when the stitches can come out. Try to refrain from over-exerting yourself, as your body isn't completely healed yet,"_ the doctor had said. Tony sighed deeply. He still wasn't cleared for active field duty. But both Dr. Burton and Dr. Summers had assured him that with the progress he was making, a few more hypnosis sessions and a check-up once a week would have him back to field work in no time.

Tony and Gibbs made their way toward the elevator. Gibbs slowed a bit to match his senior agent's pace. He was pleased with the progress, but knew Tony still wasn't one-hundred percent. Behind him, he dragged a few tanks of oxygen. The doctor had sent them home with Tony as a precaution, in case Tony felt a respiratory attack coming on.

As they stood in front of the metal doors, Gibbs noticed Tony becoming increasingly agitated. He narrowed his eyes and closely examined his agent's trembling hands and shuffling feet. As the doors opened, Tony cleared his throat and said with a note of surprise, "Oh, shoot. Forgot my extra wrist brace. You go ahead, Boss. I'll go back and get it."

Gibbs glared suspiciously, but Tony didn't notice as he turned and started walking back toward his room. Gibbs sighed and stepped into the elevator, vaguely wondering if Tony was going back to get the young nurse's number.

**. . .**

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tony stopped walking. Glancing around, he opened his bag and double-checked to make sure he really had his wrist brace, which he did. It'd been there all along. Cautiously, he turned down the hallway, taking a deep breath before jogging down the stairs.

**. . .**

Gibbs sat in the car, waiting for Tony to emerge from the doors. He'd pulled right up next to the exit, poised for Tony's arrival. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Tony opened the passenger side door and buckled up.

"You run all the way from the elevator?" Gibbs asked, noticing Tony's heavy breathing.

Tony shrugged. "Figured I'd get start getting back in shape. Gotta convince those damn doctors I'm ready," he said with a cheeky grin. Gibbs didn't believe the words for a second, but couldn't find any reason to push it.

"Ok then, let's go," Gibbs said, peeling onto the highway.

The two rode silently for a few minutes, before the shrill ring off Gibbs's cell phone interrupted the calm.

"Gibbs," he answered. After a few seconds, Gibbs pulled sharply to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Tony grabbed the dashboard desperately, unprepared for the sudden halt.

"Who's at the scene?" Gibbs asked angrily. The fire in his eyes told Tony that whatever was going on wasn't good.

After a few more seconds, Gibbs turned his eyes to Tony, conflict brewing in the icy blue. He released a breath and said quietly, "We're on our way."

"What's going on?" Tony asked apprehensively, as Gibbs hung up the phone.

"Our crazy bomber made good on his threat. He's at the apartment complex right now with a bomb strapped to him. Says he's gonna blow the whole place. McGee and Ziva are at the scene and they have someone communicating through a radio, but they can't talk the guy down. I'm gonna have to see if I can take care of it."

Tony nodded his understanding before Gibbs snapped, "And you're staying in the car, you hear me? If a muscle so much as twitches, you're done. Are we clear?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, Boss."

**. . .**

Within minutes, purely due to Gibbs's driving, the two were at the scene. Gibbs parked the car a few hundred yards from the apartment building and stepped out. Bending down to the open window, he said sternly, "Remember what I said, DiNozzo." Tony nodded, and Gibbs started jogging toward the mass of people.

People were gathered all around, many of them wrapped in blankets. These were obviously not just morbid spectators.

McGee came sprinting up to Gibbs. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. "We managed to evacuate the building. The perp is in the boiler room, so it wasn't too difficult. We think everyone's accounted for. Right now our main concern is the building and the bomber. We have a negotiator trying to talk him down, but things aren't going so well."

Gibbs nodded. "Take me to the comm. I'll talk him down."

McGee nodded, motioning to the area.

**. . .**

Tony gazed at his hands with no interest. Blowing out a breath, he tried humming. Didn't work. He tapped his hands against the dash, creating his own beat, which helped for a little while, but grew tiresome. Sighing, Tony craned his neck out the window to look at the tall building. It appeared to be vacant, which meant somehow they'd gotten the residents out. _Thank God_, Tony thought to himself with relief.

**. . .**

"You don't want to do this," Gibbs said into the small communicator. "You don't want to and you don't have to."

"I don't have a choice. It's over anyway. Things can never be the way they were before," a voice said brokenly through the static.

"That's not true," Gibbs persisted. He hated playing the nice guy, but something told him that being himself would make the guy snap. "You haven't done anything terrible yet. If you come out now, you'll get minimal jail time, especially if we vouch for you."

Silent, eerie static answered. Gibbs swore. He'd been talking to the guy for at least 10 minutes and was making no headway.

**. . .**

Tony's brow furrowed as he did a double take. One of the windows on the second floor…He swore he saw something move. _Was that the perp?_ He thought curiously. _Couldn't have been. The movement was small, tiny. Probably just a cat._ However, his eyes remained fixed on the window. A second passed. The two. Then three. Then…There it was again. _Definitely not a cat_, Tony thought, panicked. _That was a kid. That was definitely a kid._ The small frame and long blonde curls were unmistakable. There was a child trapped inside.

**. . .**

"Think about all you'll lose if you do this!" Gibbs said desperately. The bomber was becoming increasingly resolute. His responses were few and far between, each one having an air of indifference. Remorse was optimum. Hatred could be used against the perp. Indifference was deadly.

"I'm afraid we have no more time," the voice said dully. "It was very pleasant speaking with you, Agent Gibbs. Goodbye."

A moment of silence, a rumble, a shockwave…then came the flames.

**. . .**

Tony was just easing himself out of the car when the explosion hit. He was momentarily stunned by the suddenness of it. Then, his attention turned to the window he'd been looking at. The small face was gone. And smoke was pouring out the window. Tony began sprinting toward the fire escape, just as an innocent, piercing cry cut through the air.


	16. Fearless Savior

**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! I had some new reviewers for the last chapter, which I always love. Thanks everyone! Hope you feel inclined to do so again!**

**Shout-outs: **_**xenascully**__**, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**Cutezipie**_**, **_**Mulderette**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**vanishingp2000**__**, twomoms, diana teo, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, combatcrazy, **__**julie250**__**, **__**Meilea2010**__**, **__**mamamia1964**__**, **__**ihearttony**__**, PheonixTearsHealPeople, RHMichaud, Ann**_

* * *

Tony could hear his heart pounding in his head as he sprinted full-force to the fire escape. His breath came in short gasps as he climbed up the metal fixture. _Faster, faster, faster_, he pushed himself. Ignoring everything around him, he focused only on the window above him. Within seconds, he was climbing through it, lifting his coat to his nose and mouth to guard against the smoke.

"Hello?" he yelled, praying for a response. "Are you in here? I'm here to help you!" he shouted breathlessly. The smoke in the room was dense and searing, filling his lungs with putrid heat, robbing his airway of any real oxygen.

"Hello? Make a noise! If you're in here, you need to tell me where!" he shouted. Scanning the room, he found it impossible to distinguish any kind of landmark that would help him navigate.

"Oof," he said in a muffled voice. He'd run into something hard and was sent sprawling across the floor. Still coughing, his raised his body quickly. The rapid movement created black spots in his vision, causing him to sway on the spot.

_Can't breathe…can't breathe…can't breathe…_Tony's eyes widened as he realized just how little air he was getting. _This can't be happening. Not again. _He collapsed against something hard and pulled his knees to his chest. "Please, no. Please not again," he muttered to himself. "Not now." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his ragged breathing. As the underside of his eyelids shielded his vision, Tony's mind was attacked with images. But not the images he expected.

Instead of the hellish memory he was expecting, Tony saw the face. The young, small, innocent face of the child in the window. Then he saw the smoke billowing out of the window. His eyes snapped open. _If I can hardly breathe, imagine the kid. I need to get to her. No time for ridiculous phobias when there's a life at stake._

He stood again, albeit shakily, and continued to yell. "Make a noise, sweetheart! I'm here to help! Where are you?" He stumbled around, reaching his hands in front of him, feeling along the wall.

After a few seconds, he heard a noise. It was nearly inaudible, but it was there. A child's soft whimpering.

Trying not to inhale too much of the room's rapidly disappearing air, Tony rushed to the source of the sound. There was a closet right in front of him, slightly ajar. Without a second thought, he grabbed the weak door and ripped it off his hinges, revealing the child he was looking for. He spotted, through the thick smoke, a small form huddled in the corner.

It looked to be a little girl, around 4 or 5. She had long blonde hair, which hung in tousled curls to the middle of her back. The beautiful hair was streaked with black and brown, to compliment the filthy smudges on her cheeks and nose. Her pink shirt and matching capris were dirtied and messy. Tear tracks streaked the fragile face, making the sight all the more heartbreaking.

Tony rushed to her side, kneeling in front of her. "Hey," he said gently. "Can you hear me? What's your name, sweetheart?"

After a moment, the young girl nodded. "Katherine Kaye Tulley," she said quietly, her voice cracking.

"Ok, Katherine. My name's Tony. I'm gonna get you outta here, ok?"

She responded with a silent nod.

Without further ado, Tony scooped her up in his arms, heading carefully for the fire escape. It wasn't easy to avoid the various pieces of furniture and thick carpet. He treaded carefully around the obstacles, holding Katherine tightly to his chest. She was weeping quietly into his shirt and he could feel her small body trembling against him.

"Almost there, Katherine. You're doing great," he whispered reassuringly into her ear.

He got about halfway across the room when another smaller explosion shook the room violently. Katherine cried out in fear, as Tony flinched and gasped. Acting on instinct, Tony shielded the young girl's body with his own, wrapping his broad form around her protectively.

He heard a small crack. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of movement.

Pushing the girl toward the window, he dove out of the way as an enormous beam crashed into the floor where the two had just been. The contact with the hard floor knocked the wind out of him, but all he could think of was if the girl was ok. He coughed deeply and squinted through the thick air. After a few moments, he saw her a couple feet away, standing up unsteadily. Wiping sweat from his brow, Tony scurried up, eyes widening as another huge beam began falling. He saw in slow motion as the heavy, unforgiving wood continued its rapid descent…directly above Katherine.

**. . .**

Gibbs peeked his head out from behind his arm, jaw tightening as he saw the building. The flames were growing higher and higher as smoke poured from each window. He turned his face away from the devastating sight.

"Make sure everyone's accounted for," he said robotically to McGee, who was frozen to the spot. The red, angry flames were reflected in his eyes as he gazed at the destruction.

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted, snapping the younger agent out of his haze. McGee blinked hard. After a second, he went to work on identifying the evacuees and apartment owners.

Gibbs began walking back to the car, knowing he had to check on Tony and make sure he hadn't gotten himself into trouble. There was no reason he shouldn't be fine, as the explosion couldn't have reached the car. _But with DiNozzo, you never know_, he thought to himself.

As he sighed and quickened his pace, a shrill, horrific scream tore him from his thoughts.

"KATE!!! NO!!! KAAAAAATE!!!"

Gibbs turned around to face the hysterical woman sprinting toward him. Her face was painted with terror and desperation. She showed no signs of slowing herself down. Tears poured from her eyes as a pair of strong arms grabbed her and held her back.

"Get the hell off me!" she screamed. "My daughter's in there! My baby! KATE!!!" The woman was completely hysterical as her eyes stayed trained on the collapsing building.

"Calm down. Hey!" Gibbs captured the woman's eyes with his own. After a moment, her frightened gaze focused on Gibbs. His pale blue eyes locked on the woman's face, examining it tersely.

"Deep breaths. What's your name?" Gibbs asked calmly yet firmly.

The woman's eyes welled up immediately. "My name's Louise Tulley. My daughter, Kate-" her voice cracked as she breathed back a sob. "She's in our apartment. She's five years old. I only left for a few minutes…I was coming right back. I came right back," she said brokenly.

Gibbs's eyes narrowed as he examined the collapsing building. "Which window?" he asked sharply.

"Second floor, third from the left," Louise replied.

Gibbs nodded, gripping her shoulders with his hands. He looked intensely into her eyes, concern and determination hardening the icy blue. "Stay here," he ordered.

**. . .**

Tony gritted his teeth against the immense pain attacking his body. His legs shook violently as he stood in an almost half-squat. He could feel the stitches in his hands ripping roughly out of his flesh as he gripped the half-fallen beam.

The moment the large wood had begun to fall, Tony had leapt up faster than he thought humanly possible, pushing Katherine to the ground as gently as he could and using his arms to stop the beam's progression. The young girl was curled up on the ground silently, wide blue eyes gazing up fearfully at her savior.

"T-Tony?" she stuttered.

Tony suppresses a cry of pain as yet another line of stitches tore from his sensitive skin. "'s ok, Katherine," he grunted. "You hurt?" he asked concernedly.

The small child shook her head vigorously.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief through clenched teeth. "Can you climb down the fire escape, sweetheart?" _God, what kind of question is that? The kid's 4, 5 tops. She'd fall off the damn thing before getting to the first-floor level._

As Tony cursed himself, Katherine's eyes welled up with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I d-don't think I can," she stuttered quietly. Mistaking Tony's thoughtful silence as disappointment, she started bawling. "I'm s-so s-sorry. Now we're g-gonna die, aren't we?" she sobbed.

"No, no, no," Tony said reassuringly. His voice was tight and pained. A cough tickled his throat. "Just stay down, ok? Don't breathe in the air too much. If you can, try shouting for help." He squeezed his eyes shut as his knees threatened to buckle. Quickly regaining his balance, he hissed as his left foot twinged painfully. The bad foot suddenly collapsed, forcing him to reposition his body before the beam fell. If the beam fell, the whole roof would collapse and neither he nor Katherine would make it out.

**. . .**

Gibbs sprinted to the car, intending to tell Tony where he was going, and have him call for back-up. Unfortunately, he was greeted by an open door and empty seat. Eyes widening, Gibbs stared at the window he'd just been looking at. _Dammit, DiNozzo…_

**. . .**

Tony gasped as a particularly thick cloud of smoke entered his abused lungs. He doubled over as his body was wracked with bone-chilling coughs. His precarious grip on the wooden beam teetered dangerously.

"No," he exclaimed desperately through clenched teeth. He wheezed as his vision faded in and out.

"Tony!" a small voice shouted. The frightened, high-pitched cry brought him back to reality, where his grip was slowly but surely slipping. "Hold on! There's a guy! There's a man coming! Please hold on!"

Tony tried frantically to regain his grip. _Come on, DiNozzo. Hold on. As soon as the girl's out, you can let go. Right now, you have to hold on._

As quick as lightning, a figure broke through the dense fog, grabbing Katherine in a fireman's carry. A relieved smile played on Tony's cracked lips as he watched Gibbs carry the girl to safety.

"Hang in there, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gently to the younger agent. "You don't have my permission to let go yet."

Tony nodded weakly and watched as Gibbs raced down the fire escape, Katherine in tow.

He felt his exhausted body twitch uncontrollably, attempting to release its tenuous hold on consciousness. _No, not yet…_

He gazed at the tattered, bloodied bandages covering his hands and found his grip easing up. His lungs wheezed audibly with every intake of air.

Just as his vision grayed, Gibbs came bursting through the open window. He grabbed the huge beam, almost crumbling under the weight. _How the hell did Tony hold this up in his condition?_ He silently mused.

"Let go on three, DiNozzo," he said firmly. "One…two...three!"

Gibbs simultaneously released the beam and grabbed his agent, pulling them both through the window as the roof of the apartment collapsed.

**. . .**

Gibbs looked worriedly at his agent, who was laying on a stretcher yet again, an oxygen mask strapped to his dirtied face.

Fury invaded his gaze as he watched the agent open his eyes. Not a moment was spared as Gibbs launched into his angry tirade. "That has to be the _stupidest _thing you've ever done, DiNozzo. Hell, that has to be the stupidest thing I've ever _witnessed_! What part of 'stay in the car' confused you? Huh, DiNozzo? Was it the 'stay' or the 'car'? What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Sorry, Boss," Tony huffed. "G-Guess I _wasn't_ really thinking."

Gibbs glared reproachfully at his agent. After a long moment, Tony pulled the oxygen mask down. His eyes focused elsewhere and he began speaking. Softly, at first, then his voice gained strength. Though it was horribly cracked and raspy, the tone had a sort of resolute power to it. Gibbs was both mystified and intrigued. His curiosity was the only thing keeping him from snapping the mask right back on and headslapping the agent into oblivion.

"I was s-scared, Boss…I was s-so scared," Tony said, gulping for air. "I couldn't b-breathe and I-" he coughed harshly before regaining his breath. "I was about to break d-down again. But I kn-knew I couldn't…I couldn't…" His furrowed brow eased as a wide grin slowly spread across his face. "I'm not scared anymore, Boss."

Gibbs peered anxiously at his agent, looking for signs of what he could be hiding. He wondered fleetingly if there was brain damage of some kind. But the smile appeared genuine. Tony's breathing was easing and he sunk contentedly into the gurney.

"I'm not scared anymore."


	17. Superman

**AN: Thanks as usual for the wonderful reviews! Only a few chapters left. It's been such a journey so far. One that could never have been completed without your constant support. So keep inspiring me with your kind reviews! It truly brightens my day :) Thank you!**

**Shout-outs: **_**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**Cutezipie**_**, **_**Mulderette**__**, **__**vanishingp2000**__**, twomoms, diana teo, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, combatcrazy, **__**julie250**__**, **__**Meilea2010**__**, **__**ihearttony**__**, PheonixTearsHealPeople, RHMichaud, Ann, **__**wunsleh**__**, **__**TheNaggingCube**__**, LongLashes1, **__**BnBfanatic**__**, **__**ncismom**_

* * *

"I don't _need _to stay, Boss! They patched up my hands and they can just send oxygen home with me. This is a pointless waste of time. _Please_ just take me home," Tony begged. His pleading was offset by a deep cough, making him sound sad and weak.

Tony was seated, yet again, on a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, desperate to get out. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't going to happen.

"Another word out of you, DiNozzo, and I'll make sure they keep you here for a week. Ya got me?"

Tony sighed sullenly, triggering another coughing fit. Gibbs's brow furrowed with concern. The doctor had told him that the coughing was to be expected. Thankfully, that was the only real side effect of the smoke inhalation. No permanent damage was done, which had Gibbs singing a chorus of gratitude inside. The stitches –each and every one of them- had ripped out of Tony's hands, making both Gibbs and Tony cringe. The horrid mess had been patched up and re-bandaged quickly, to both their relief.

"You're lucky it's they're only keeping you overnight for observation," Gibbs said. "If it was my decision, you _would_ be here for a week." Inwardly grinning at the panicked look on Tony's face, Gibbs added, "Lucky for you, it's not my decision."

Tony released a breath of relief. He stretched grandly, extending his limbs as far as they could reach, hoping to release some of the tension in his muscles. He groaned at the sensation.

The sight triggered a change in the lead agent's mood. Gibbs glared down at his agent. "Don't think you're off the hook for this, DiNozzo. What you did was foolish and reckless and-"

"-exactly what you would have done in my position," Tony finished smugly. The flash of anger in Gibbs's eyes told him Gibbs was not amused.

"You'd just been released from the hospital after being on oxygen for three days. Your condition was compromised to begin with and you blindly ran into a burning building, full of smoke, making your damn lungs even weaker than they were, if that's even _possible_. You acted impulsively and it could well have cost you your life. It was a stupid move, DiNozzo, plain and simple."

Now it was Tony's turn to be angry. His fists clenched beneath the heavy wrappings. "You're leaving out the part where there was a _little girl_ in there. If I hadn't gone in, she'd be dead, Gibbs. You and I both know it. And if you think that I care about some freaking scarring on my _precious_ lungs," he spat sarcastically, "You're dead wrong. A life was at stake and I had to think quickly. I made my decision and I'm standing by it."

"You're life was at stake, too!" Gibbs replied without missing a beat.

"It's doesn't matter!" Tony shouted. Gibbs was taken aback by the violent frustration in the agent's voice. The volume and effort triggered another bought of coughing, the worst yet. After a few seconds, Tony found enough air to say weakly between gasping breaths, "All that…mattered…was the girl. She's fine…I'm fine…It all turned out…ok."

Gibbs shook his head. Obviously, their definitions of 'ok' greatly differed.

They each took a few moments to cool down before Gibbs said softly, "All I'm saying is that at some point, you have to realize you're not Superman."

"We'll see about that," Tony said with a smile.

Gibbs shook his head, sighing. "Well, I have work to do, DiNozzo, so I'm heading out. Ziva will be back at 0800 tomorrow to sign you out and take you back to your apartment. Try to behave until then, ok?"

Tony chuckled tiredly. "Sure thing, Boss. Catch ya later."

With that, Gibbs exited the room and Tony fell gently back into his bed, relishing the idea of sleep.

**. . .**

Tony awoke late in the evening, yawning as he peered at the clock. He cocked his head curiously as a strange sensation made the hair on the back of his neck prick up.

"Did you rest well?" a voice asked.

Tony jumped a foot into the air, flinching away from the voice. His gasp turned into a hacking cough, and he sat up, expelling the air from his lungs.

Eyes watering, he turned to the person in the chair next to his bed. The person who had been masked in the darkness of the room, expertly hidden from Tony's sight.

"What are you doing here, Ziva?" Tony asked roughly. His voice came out raspy and dry from the coughing fit. Ziva promptly placed a bottle of water into his hands. "Thanks," he said, unsuccessfully attempting to unscrew the cap. "So why are you here?"

Ziva shifted in the chair. Noticing his struggle, she reached out and unscrewed the bottle cap for Tony. "I did not mean to startle you. I just did not get a chance to see you after the fire, and wanted to check on your condition," she explained reasonably.

Tony smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Startle me? Never. Induce heart failure? Possibly." Examining Ziva's face through narrowed eyes, he continued, "But that doesn't really explain why you're _here_. If you wanted an update on me, you could have just talked to Gibbs."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose I could have," Ziva responded. Clearing her throat, she continued, "So how are feeling?"

"Phenomenal. You know, I actually think my lungs are starting to like this aggressive conditioning they're being put through. The constant threat of danger keeps them alert, which keeps me breathing. And that's always good, right? Yup, it really is true. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Not always," Ziva said quietly. Her uncharacteristically gentle voice made her seem exceptionally vulnerable. She studied Tony through her dark lashes. "I was worried, Tony. You had just gotten out of the hospital. You were still weak. I never expected anything to happen to you, not again. When I discovered you were in the fire, and I saw all the smoke and flames…I …I…" Ziva stuttered, recalling the feeling when she was first told of Tony's heroics. Her heart had plummeted. Her vision had blurred. All surrounding noise had seemed to fade into the background. Blinking the tears from her eyes, Ziva continued. "I do not want to go through that again."

Tony blinked stupidly, unsure of what to say. "I...I don't really know what to say, Ziva. I never wanted to hurt you. I guess I was just kinda doing what I thought I had to. You must understand that." No response. "You understand that right?"

Ziva bit her lip, before replying. "I do not know, Tony. Sometimes, it just seems as though you have some sort of death wish."

"Death wish? You think I _like_ getting into these situations? Dammit, if I could do my job without any injuries or risks, I would. But we're agents, Ziva. Every day we walk through the door, we could die. In the end, you have to calculate the risk and weigh it against the good that comes out of what we do." He paused to regain his breath, before continuing. "We've brought families justice. We've prevented murders. A little girl was saved. To me, at the end of the day, it's those things that make the job worth it."

Ziva smiled and touched her hand to Tony's cheek. "Quite articulate for a frat-boy."

"Been practicing that speech since I became a cop. Figured it would come in handy at some point."

The two held each other's gaze for some time, falling into the depths of emotion reflected in them.

Finally, Ziva spoke. "Just know that we all care about you very much. And it would be selfish to put yourself in danger, knowing how it would hurt us if anything happened. You understand?"

"More than you know," Tony replied seriously. "I feel the same way. If anything happened to any of you, I'd be devastated." Tony shuddered, thinking of Abby, McGee, Gibbs, Ziva, Ducky, Palmer, and even Vance. If anything ever happened to them…

Standing up, Ziva said, "Then it is agreed. All of us will stay safe and healthy…for each other."

"Sounds like a deal," Tony said with a smirk. He was slightly disappointed to see her go, but wasn't about to voice that.

"I will be back at 0800 to take you home. Get some rest, and make sure you are ready for me," Ziva said. The emotion was gone from her voice. It was all business now.

"Yes, sir!" Tony put his hand to his forehead and saluted Ziva, who rolled her eyes.

As she walked out of the room, Tony couldn't help but watch her intently.

_If I really am Superman_, he thought to himself, _I think I've just found my Kryptonite. _


	18. Good To Be Back

**AN1: I wanted to get this out to you before the weekend ended. I hope you enjoy. I really struggled with this chapter. I want to remain true to the show and keep the Tiva fairly subtle and not super-obvious, but at the same time, I want to satisfy my readers (bloodthirsty Tiva worshippers!). I tried to compromise. Hope you enjoy!**

**AN2: As usual, thank you so much for the reviews! This being the second-to-last chapter, I want to tell you how much I appreciate the support you've given me throughout the story. Thank you! Please continue to review and let me know how I'm doing.**

**Shout-outs: **_**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**Azamiko**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**Cutezipie**_**, **_**Mulderette**__**, **__**TinTin11**_**, **_**diana teo, **__**sarahsrr**__**, **__**NickTonyK**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**jgomez921**__**, combatcrazy, RHMichaud, anci2506, DiNUTZzo, Space1Traveler, **__**cheekymice**_

**WARNING: Slight Tiva. Feel free to skip this chap and move on if you so desire.**

* * *

"Are you ready to go, Tony?" Ziva asked, tapping her foot impatiently. "It cannot possibly take you this long to put on clothes."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. I'll be out in a minute," Tony yelled, his reply muffled from behind the door.

Ziva had shown up 15 minutes ago, overnight bag in hand. Abby had taken the liberty of packing it with everything Tony would need to be ready to go –clothes, shoes, toothbrush, and God only knows what else. When she walked into the room, she saw Tony, legs dangling over the side of the bed, eager to go and instructed him to get dressed and make it quick. She did have to go to work, after all. He'd grabbed the bag cheerfully, ran into the bathroom, and then closed the door with a flourish. He was still in the bathroom.

After the first few minutes, Ziva had begun to worry. Had he fallen? Is he ok? Gibbs had previously informed the team about Tony's 'trauma-induced claustrophobia'. But he also said it was gone after the fire. _Was he wrong? Is Tony on the floor right now, panicking, unable to breathe? _She had thought worriedly.

It had taken all her willpower to refrain from kicking down the door. Not a minute later, she heard him whistling inside the bathroom and couldn't suppress a grin. _He's just fine._

Clearing her throat impatiently, Ziva shouted frustratedly, "We're just going to your apartment. You do not need all this pimping!"

Ziva heard a deep chuckle from behind the bathroom door. "_Primping_, Ziva. Trust me, if I was pimping, you'd be wearing a lot less than a sweater and khakis."

Suspicious, but not completely sure of Tony's meaning, Ziva rolled her eyes and sighed. _Stupid American slang_. "If you are not out in 10 seconds-"

She was interrupted by the opening of the door, revealing a beaming Tony. "All set!" he said cheerily.

He was dressed nicely in casual jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. Despite the comfort and practicality of the outfit, each garment fit him perfectly, emphasizing the right parts and making him look younger. The wardrobe was completed with a decent pair of comfortable sneakers.

Glancing at his hair, Ziva saw what took him such a long time. In typical DiNozzo fashion, Tony had gelled and styled it perfectly.

_Well, almost perfectly_, Ziva thought with an amused smile. Seeing a small streak of excess hair gel gathered at the back of Tony's head, Ziva reached out and gently smoothed it out with her fingers.

"What're you doing?" Tony said indignantly, ducking away from her hand.

"Trying to help. Apparently 15 minutes wasn't enough time for you to be groomed," Ziva replied. She held up her hand, showing him the sticky substance on her fingertips.

Tony's eyes widened as his face slowly broke into an enormous grin. He began laughing, stifling the sound at first, before allowing a deep, hysterical laugh to take over. He doubled over, unable to stop.

Ziva was absolutely bewildered. "What on earth is so funny?" she asked, completely baffled by the outburst.

"I take it…you've never…seen… 'There's Something…About Mary'?" Tony said between laughing fits.

Ziva shook her head. The comment had done nothing to quell her confusion. After a few seconds, she glanced at her watch and sighed exasperatedly.

"Try to compose yourself, DiNozzo. We are leaving now." She grabbed his arm and led him out of the room as he continued to giggle uncontrollably.

_And he has not even taken his painkillers yet_, Ziva thought wearily.

**. . .**

"You really don't need to escort me to the door. I think I can handle it from here," Tony said with a smirk.

He and Ziva were standing at the ground floor of Tony's apartment. Tony was carrying his bag and was getting ready to head toward the stairs.

"The building does not have an elevator?" Ziva questioned with a furrowed brow. A sliver of concern lingered in her deep brown eyes.

"Nah, but the rent's cheap, so it evens out," Tony replied. He grinned and chuckled lightly at the upset expression on Ziva's face. "It's no big deal, Zi. I'm fine. Really."

She was not convinced. Shaking her head, she grabbed Tony's bag from his hands and began a brisk walk toward the stairway entrance. Tony stood for a moment, gaping at her with a look of indignation. She ignored his stare and shouted behind her, without looking, "I do not have all day. Please try to keep up."

Releasing a deep breath, Tony smiled and jogged beside Ziva.

**. . .**

"Whew, quite the workout," Tony said breathlessly as he and Ziva stepped into his apartment.

"You could use the exercise," Ziva retorted casually. She shoved the bag into his arms. "You get settled. I will make breakfast."

Tony raised his eyebrows and allowed a bemused grin to mask his face. Not amused, Ziva glared at him sharply. "Unless, of course, you would like me to drive you back to the hospital so you can eat there," she said stridently.

Turning on his heel, Tony said quickly, "I'll go get settled." He walked into his bedroom and dumped his bag on the bed. It only took a few seconds to shove the various provisions into their proper places. After less than a minute, he sighed, satisfied with his efforts. He quietly made his way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway before entering.

Ziva was oblivious as Tony stood in the small doorframe, examining her every motion. As he watched her methodically set the table, he found himself intoxicated with her. Every movement, every flip of her wrist…it was so graceful, so enchanting. The smallest details filled Tony's mind as he closely scrutinized the woman. The small, wispy strands of hair that fell gently across her face. The smooth action of her fingertips as they grazed the plates and silverware. The deep, reflective sparkle in her chocolaty brown eyes. As he watched Ziva, Tony was overcome by a sense of realization.

He didn't need anything. He'd spent so many days and nights contemplating ways to improve his situation. Ways to get more. To get what he wanted. But maybe he hadn't been looking for the right thing. Instead of searching for how to make things better, he should have been looking at what he already had.

He had her. Definitions and labels were irrelevant. Actions and words were immaterial. He had her. She had him. Feeling, emotions, things known in one's heart…those couldn't be defined. He didn't want more. He already had all he needed. Wherever the world took them, however they continued their relationship, in whatever capacity…Certain things could never be changed. Those things would always remain. Unspoken, perhaps, but ever-present.

As the epiphany washed over him, Tony's lips spread into a beaming smile. Genuine joy radiated from his face as he stood. Had anyone noticed, they may have been perplexed. But no one did notice. No one knew of Tony's fresh understanding. And he was just fine with that.

"Are you going to stand there and stare or are you going to help me?" Ziva asked impatiently, turning to her partner. Tony grinned and crossed the threshold. He grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, placing them on the table.

"Pick your poison," Tony said. He opened the refrigerator and revealed a few random beverages.

Ziva walked over and took the milk from the top shelf. Unscrewing the cap, she put it to her nose and sniffed. A disgusted scowl animated her features. "I think I will just have water."

Tony grinned sheepishly before taking the milk jug and dumping its contents into the sink. "Probably a wise decision."

The two got their drinks before settling into the chairs.

"What's on the menu for this fine morning?" Tony asked, sipping his drink.

Ziva shrugged indifferently. "Do eggs sound suitable?"

"Eggs sound delicious," Tony replied.

After collecting the needed supplies and creating some gourmet scrambled eggs, Tony and Ziva sat at the small circular table and ate in silence. When both were finished eating, Tony grabbed their plates and deposited them into the sink.

"I should be going now," Ziva said curtly, standing from the chair. "Gibbs will not appreciate me taking longer than necessary."

"Right, that's probably a good idea," Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked down at his feet for a moment before lifting his gaze to Ziva, who stood, patiently awaiting his words. "Well, I'll see you soon I'm sure. My sick leave's up in a week or so, and if I can be discreet about it, I'll be back before then."

"Not too soon," Ziva scolded. She glared reproachfully at Tony, who smirked in response.

After a tense moment, Tony stood completely still and looked Ziva deep in the eyes. She froze, scarcely breathing as his eyes peered into her soul.

"Thank you, Ziva," Tony said softly. "For everything."

She smiled, pushing herself onto her toes so she could reach his face. Then, she gently kissed his cheek and walked away.

A few seconds later, Tony heard the front door shut and he walked into the living room. Kicking off his shoes, he popped in a DVD and collapsed onto the couch. The opening credits of James Bond came on and Tony sighed contentedly.

_I'm definitely gonna make the most of this vacation_, he thought to himself with a smile.

**. . .**

_Four days later…_

"You're three days early, DiNozzo," Gibbs stated sternly as he strolled into the bullpen.

Tony was leaning against his desk casually, chatting it up with McGee and Ziva, who were each sitting at their desks. As soon as Gibbs walked in, Ziva picked up her desk phone and dialed a number, beginning an engaging conversation with whomever she had called. McGee began typing furiously on his keyboard, looking totally immersed in whatever was on the monitor.

"Traitors," Tony muttered, glaring at the two.

"Gear up," Gibbs said, casting an irritated glance at Tony. "We got a dead Marine."

**. . .**

"DiNozzo and McGee, interview the neighbors. David, you're with me," Gibbs ordered.

"You sure about that?" Tony asked with a smirk. "Didn't work out so well the last time. Maybe this is how it starts. Somehow, we've gotten ourselves sucked into a massive vortex of constant repetition, forced to relive the last few weeks of our lives, over and over. A sinister, hellish, inescapable Groundhog Day all our own," Tony finished melodramatically.

"DiNozzo…," Gibbs growled lowly.

"Gotcha, Boss. Interviewing the neighbors now," He sped toward the neighbor's home, McGee following suit. As the two knocked on the neighbor's door, Tony grinned excitedly.

_It's good to be back._


	19. The End Is Just A New Place To Begin

_**First of all, I want to dedicate this chapter to a very good friend of mine whose mother passed away early this morning. May God be with her and her family during this difficult time. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers. **_

_**In times like these, we must remember that with every end, a new story begins. It struck me today how this applies to what we do here and life in general. Because, really, that's all that endings are. Just a new place to begin.**_

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**AN1: This has been such a journey. This was only my second multi-chapter fic, and much longer than my first. To get such kind and encouraging support from so many people meant more than words can ever express. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!**

**Shout-outs: **_**TinTin11**_**, **_**scousemuz1k**__**,**__**wunsleh**__**, NCIS-TIVA-FAN, xenascully,**__**Tiffany331**_**, **_**DiNUTZzo, carismum, **__**sarahsrr**_**, **_**Space1Traveler, **__**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**jgomez921**_**, **_**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**ncischick09**__**,**__**julie250**_**,**_** combatcrazy**_

**AN2: If you're reading this, please review. Whether it's only 2 words or 500, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Even if you're reading this 10 years from now, I would really love to hear what you have to say. If you're one of those readers that lurks in the shadows and reads from afar, now is your chance to tell me what you thought of the story. Anonymous reviews are equally appreciated! So please take a moment –just a moment- to leave your thoughts in a review. Thanks :)**

* * *

_A few months later…_

It was pitch black as Tony and Abby stumbled into Abby's apartment. They tried to be quiet, as it was the wee hours of the morning, and Abby had a feeling her neighbors would not appreciate a wake-up call.

The two were drunk on lack of sleep after spending the whole night singing, dancing, and interacting with other fans at the Rocky Horror Picture Show viewing. The show had started at midnight, but factor in the pre-show and post-show activities…It had been a long night.

"Abs, that was amazing…" Tony said sleepily. As promised, he was clad only in a small gold bikini bottom, shivering slightly.

"That was totally," Abby yawned, "Awesome." She was dressed in some elegant fishnets, along with a corset and sparkly gloves. She was hearing insanely high heels which emphasized her length, and her neck was fitted nicely with some large pearls. Her costume was flawless in itself, but when the make-up was added, accentuating her strong bone structure and full lips, it was hands-down spectacular.

"I'm freezing my ass off," Tony said with a groan. "Let's change."

Abby nodded her agreement and tossed Tony his overnight bag, which he'd packed in preparation for the big night. Tony caught it and slung it over his shoulder, looking one last time at Abby's dazzling form.

"Wow, that really is an astonishing transformation," he said, smiling widely.

"You're not so bad yourself," Abby replied happily. "Now get some real clothes on before you freeze to death! Gibbs would never forgive me if you came to work on Monday as a popsicle."

Tony chuckled, and proceeded to walk into the bathroom. He ventured a long look in the mirror, examining his tall, sturdy body. Gently, he ran his fingers over the thin, jagged scars covering his hands. The color had faded from them, leaving pale, lifeless lines etched in the skin. The wounds had faded significantly, to the point of near invisibility. One could only truly notice the blemishes if looking for them specifically. Tony masked the scarring well with the fluidity of his movements, unwilling to let the physical reminders hinder him in any way. He was moving on with his life, leaving behind the hell he had faced. The incident did not define him. It was simply added into the archive of events which, moment by moment, created the life of Anthony DiNozzo. Allowing the memories to plague him only gave the incident power, fueling dormant fears and sadness. Tony would not allow that.

Smiling softly, Tony slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Grabbing something out of his bag, he quietly exited the bathroom and went into the living room. Abby had already changed and was sitting eagerly, legs crossed, on the couch.

"You ready?" Tony asked cheerily. Abby nodded excitedly. Tony took the DVD in his hand and popped it into the DVD player. "You're about to experience one of the most influential, life-changing films ever created."

Abby raised her eyebrows skeptically. "It's The Breakfast Club, Tony. I know it's a classic, but don't you think you're exaggerating a little?"

"Trust me," Tony replied. "You'll see what I mean when it's over."

Abby grinned and snuggled close to Tony as he pushed play.

**. . .**

"Wow," Abby said breathlessly, wiping tears from her eyes. "That was…indescribable. I mean, the emotions were so raw and real and the way the characters reacted to each other, and formed such a bond by the end. It was tasteful but realistic, and so sad, but then so happy! Each perspective was totally cool, even the stupid asshole principal. It was funny and sad and feel-good and a million other things all at the same time. It was, like…the perfect movie!" She rubbed her eyes as exhaustion crept into her system.

Tony smiled grandly. "Told you." He knelt down, taking the DVD out and putting it back in its case. He, too, was starting to feel the effects of such an eventful night. Stifling a yawn, he said, "I'm glad you liked it."

Abby opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted as a yawn overtook her. Instinctively, she stretched her arms out, extending her body to its limit. Then, she settled back into the couch and curled up tiredly. "Loved it," she mumbled. Tony grinned wearily as the need for sleep dulled his senses.

"I'll take…the couch," Abby said sleepily, another yawn disrupting her words. Tony forced his droopy eyes open and gave a small nod. "I'll get some extra blankets for you," Abby murmured, dragging herself to her feet.

Tony stumbled into the bedroom, grateful he was coherent enough to find his way. Sliding his hands across the wall, his fingers made contact with the small light switch. Flipping it on, Tony stopped in his tracks.

It wasn't the burst of bright light that sobered him. Nor was it the strong, familiar scent that always tinged Abby. It wasn't even the small cold draft that raised goosebumps on his arms. Tony felt an unmistakable chill shoot down his spine. And he knew it had nothing to do with the draft.

It wasn't the light. It wasn't the smell. It wasn't the draft. No, none of those things stopped Tony dead in his tracks. What froze Tony was in the center of the room, attention-grabbing, unambiguous.

In the middle of the room lay a coffin.

Logically, Tony knew it didn't mean anything. It was where Abby slept. She had always slept in a coffin, since Tony had met her. Hell, _he'd_ slept in it before. After so many years of friendship, sleepovers were inevitable.

Tony's breath slowed as he examined the flawless wood. In times past, it had provided comfort for him. Tight, comfortable, secure. Now the thought made him sick. But it shouldn't. Not really. He was over it. He'd spent the last months eliminating his irrational fears, so he could move on. And he had. He'd moved on. He couldn't well stop every time he saw a coffin, could he?

Solely focused on the coffin/bed in front of him, Tony didn't notice when a sleepy Abby staggered into the room, carrying a mess of extra fluffy blankets. She dropped the pile onto the floor and began mumbling, "Here, these should do for-" The words died on her lips as her eyes flicked fearfully from Tony's stony face to the coffin and back to Tony.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Tony, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't even think of you and it and –I mean I always take the couch when you come over, just instinct I guess- but I can't believe I was so stupid." Tears flooded her eyes as she spewed out apology after apology. "I'm so sorry, Tony. I'm so s-"

"Abs," Tony said gently, cutting off her tangent.

She gazed up in trepidation, eyes wide.

Hazel eyes sparkling, Tony put his hands on Abby's shoulders. Looking deep into her eyes, he locked his intense gaze with hers. Then, his face broke into a bright, beaming smile. It started as a small grin, then evolved into pure, concentrated happiness, painted with white teeth and curling lips.

"It's fine, Abby," He said, not a hint of deceit in his voice.

Abby frowned. "But-"

"No harm done, Abby. Really," Tony said firmly, the genuine smile still lingering on his carefree face. "I'm fine." _And this time_, Tony thought to himself, _I think I actually mean it._

Abby pulled him into a fierce hug, which he returned tenfold. Cupping his hand to the back of her head, Tony put his mouth right next to Abby's ear and said softly, smile evident in his voice, "But if it's all the same to you, I think I'll take the couch."

As the two laughed and smiled and embraced, it became apparent that not all was lost. Though real-life fairy tales are few and far between, there's always hope. Even the saddest stories can have happy endings. Even the worst situations can turn into something positive. And even after suffering the consequences of no escape, life can still go on.

**THE END**


End file.
